


Magnetic In Our Purple Season Seven

by AsagaoSylph



Series: Magnetic In Our Purple [3]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: BAMF Allura (Voltron), BAMF Keith (Voltron), BAMF Lance (Voltron), BAMF Pidge | Katie Holt, Established Relationship, F/F, First Dates, First Kiss, Fix-It, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Lance (Voltron) Speaks Spanish, M/M, Plot, Protective Keith (Voltron), Protective Lance (Voltron), Protective Pidge | Katie Holt, Sequel, Sequel to a sequel technically, Team as Family, Trauma Recovery, klance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-25
Updated: 2019-12-25
Packaged: 2021-02-25 21:08:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 18
Words: 63,732
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21951973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AsagaoSylph/pseuds/AsagaoSylph
Summary: “Guess our first date is going to be at a haunted Castle,” he teased, drawing the two black bayards from their hiding places as Keith snatched his knife from the bedside table. “Much fancier than a haunted house, huh cariño?”ORAs Keith and Lance finally begin their relationship, a familiar face reappears that begins to tear Lance apart at the seams, and Keith struggles to adjust to all the changes happening around them. As time begins to run out for Earth, will the Voltron family make it back to their home in time or will their fears destroy everything they have made themselves into?
Relationships: Acxa & Lotor (Voltron), Acxa/Allura (Voltron), Adam/Shiro (Voltron), Allura & Keith (Voltron), Allura & Lance (Voltron), Allura & Lotor (Voltron), Allura & Matt Holt & Shiro, Ezor/Zethrid (Voltron), Hunk & Lance (Voltron), Keith & Krolia (Voltron), Keith/Lance (Voltron), Kuron & Lance (Voltron), Lance & Nadia & Sylvio (Voltron), Lance & Pidge | Katie Holt, Romelle/Narti
Series: Magnetic In Our Purple [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1445293
Comments: 112
Kudos: 158





	1. Good Morning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so maybe Keith should have seen this coming from (as he was positive Pidge and Hunk would snicker at him) a thousand miles away, but nothing in the universe could have really prepared him for this!

Okay, so maybe Keith should have seen this coming from (as he was positive Pidge and Hunk would snicker at him) a thousand miles away, but nothing in the universe could have really prepared him for this!

“‘Morning, mi amor,” murmured Lance, booping Keith’s nose as he grinned, curls bouncing in a halo around his face and freckles reflecting the faint blue light of the room like twinkling stars spread across his cheeks. “I think we have a bit more time before the others wake up. You want some more cuddles?”

Keith was going to die. He was going to ascend straight to heaven and he probably wouldn’t even notice because _how was his boyfriend allowed to be this utterly adorable? How?!_ He had just woken up and he already looked like an angel blessed by every star surrounding them, the sleepy haze only making his eyes a sweeter shade of blue, like someone had gathered every secret stream in the galaxy and poured them into his irises. They were crinkled slightly, smile squishing his glowing marks and lighting up his face until his nose scrunched like a kitten’s.

Not fair, it was too early for this much gay bliss.

“Keith?” Whispered Lance, tucking a lock of black hair back from his boyfriend’s cheek and snickering at the telltale glow of red suffusing the pale skin. “You good over there, space ranger?”

“Nicknames are not allowed,” groaned Keith, burying his head into Lance’s soft, black sleeve. “Definitely prohibited.”

“Noooooooo, you’ve always been the mulleted samurai!” Complained Lance, flopping over his boyfriend and blowing raspberries into his back that filled the small room with squeals and wrestling. “Now you’re just my mulleted samurai boyfriend! I’ve been preparing for this for, like, half a decaphoeb, don’t deprive me of my nicknames!”

“Half a decaphoeb?!” Squeaked Keith, wriggling away from Lance’s attacks and seizing the nearby blanket.

“Yes!” Shrieked Lance, diving away from his boyfriend’s attempts to turn him into a blanket burrito, and snatching his pillow to use as a battering ram. “So shut up and let me love you, Mullethead!”

Keith squawked in protest, ears lighting up a sweet scarlet, and Lance grabbed his boyfriend’s pillow as well. His smirk turned wide.

Three ticks later, Lance was a sulking blanket burrito and Keith’s hair had been thoroughly assaulted by both pillows.

“You,” growled Keith, ears still shining, “are a menace.”

Lance wiggled his eyebrows in response, snickering as Keith beaned him with a pillow.

“Boyfriend or not, I’m still going to annoy the stars out of you,” he replied, scooching across the bed and tapping their noses together. “We’re not going to change that much. I’m just going to drown you in affection now as well as irritation.”

Keith sputtered incomprehensibly, dropping his head into his hands as Lance snickered triumphantly above him. “Just let me know if you’re actually uncomfy and I’ll stop,” added Lance, dropping a kiss to the back of Keith’s mullet. “I want you to be a cheerfully stabby Samurai, not an angrily stabby Samurai.”

“As long as I get to stab things,” grumbled Keith. “And yes to the cuddles.”

Lance was out of the burrito in two ticks flat, curling around Keith like a giant wave of sunshine. His breath was gentle, fanning over Keith’s shoulder, soothing in its consistent rhythm.

“Sooooooo,” murmured Lance, nose brushing at Keith’s shirt as he nestled impossibly closer, “is this going to be an every night thing? Us reading and snuggling to sleep?”

Keith twisted his head, nose sliding across Lance’s in the process and turning his partner’s markings into twin flashlights. Keith giggled, palms folding over Lance’s soft hands, and he relaxed fully into the embrace.

“Depends,” he replied, lips curving into a smirk. “I might prefer you singing over reading sometimes.”

Lance’s smile drew itself against his back, and Keith knew his ears were red even before his boyfriend was snickering.

“Te amo,” he murmured, tightening his hold around Keith even as he gulped. “Te amo, Keith.”

Lance had never said those words to anyone before. Of course, he had whispered _te quiero_ to his niece and nephew when he tucked them into bed. Of course, he had proclaimed it cheerfully before kissing his mother on his way off to school, or squealed it and thrown his arms around Hunk, spinning and laughing after the taller boy had made a particularly tasty treat. He said it to Pidge smugly because he knew she couldn’t translate it (she had been convinced he just called her a name, and the two went on an epic chase through the Castle of Lions that somehow resulted in a full-pool splash war), and he had promised it to Allura a thousand times when her hands curled into tight balls by her side. He gave his love freely, joyfully, to those he knew deserved it.

This type of love, though, he had never handed to anyone. Because it wasn’t just love; it was a promise. It was the kind of promise that used to send his stomach plummeting through the soles of his feet, used to freeze his heart in place, used to bring his arms up as if he could physically shield his heart by doing that. It was the kind of promise he couldn’t imagine himself making to anyone other than Keith.

“Uh…um…y-yo tambian te amo?” Murmured Keith, voice growing smaller as the unfamiliar words stumbled on his tongue. “Sorry. Black’s trying to teach me. Languages aren’t really…my thing.”

Lance blinked.

Once.

Twice.

Then his heart went full-on supernova in his chest and he buried his face into Keith’s back, a wordless squeal vibrating the shirt and growing louder as Keith began giggling. “Te amo,” whispered Keith.

Lance’s muffled squeals slipped into his first soprano range and Keith’s eyebrows disappeared behind his bangs. “I’m dating a banshee.”

Lance jabbed Keith in the ribs, pulling an indignant squawk from the taller boy, and snuggled closer in.

“Cállate, alma gemela.”

Keith scowled and stabbed Lance’s forehead with his finger in retribution, curling contentedly in his love’s arms and releasing a blissful sigh that expelled all the tension from his shoulders.

“Did I say it right?”

“Nope, you were awful,” replied Lance, pressing his lips to Keith’s shoulder when the paladin huffed. “So, thank you! For stepping outside of your comfort zone like that. Gracias. Me encantó.”

Keith’s entire face was a tomato again, and this time, he got the distinct feeling the alarm was going to blare before he could wipe the lovestruck, dopey smile from his face. He just snuggled in closer to his partner, to his love, to the one he was happy to trust his entire heart to. He had expected to be afraid, and by all rights, he should be.

But this was Lance. There was nothing for him to be scared of.

“So, uh, what are we going to tell the others?”

Except getting deafened by the entire Castle of Lions’ triumphant screaming. Right. Great.

“Keith, buddy, my man, burying your head in my back isn’t an answer. Oh, do not fake snore at me, Mullet!”

“I’m telling you,” insisted Lance, legs locked around Keith’s stomach as he brushed the thick locks back into a ponytail, “we can’t be subtle about this! If we’re going to tell them, it has to be straightforward! We already cut off most of our other options with the whole jacket swapping and matching necklaces and hand-holding.”

“Formal announcements suck,” complained Keith, fingers playing with (ripping apart) a tissue Lance had handed him; it was the only way to keep him still long enough for Lance to fix his hair. “They’re awkward. I’d rather show them.”

Lance hummed, snapping a hair tie around the bundle of black hair and untangling his legs from around Keith.

“Kissing?” He suggested, passing the brush to Keith and slipping around the older boy. “I think that’s the one thing we never did before getting together?”

Keith frowned, nose scrunching as he scooted backwards to make room for Lance. The taller boy settled between his legs, curls bouncing and back straight. “Though, I mean,” added Lance, “at this point, they might just groan and tell us to get together already if we do that.”

Keith laughed, slipping the brush through Lance’s chestnut hair and grimacing as his contacts started to burn. He really needed to get better about taking them out before going to sleep; Shiro would probably decapitate him next time he pulled something like this.

“Keith? You good back there?” Asked Lance, twisting his head to steal a glance at his boyfriend, lips pursing at Keith’s scowl.

“Uh, I—”

Keith’s eyes gave a sharp sting, tugging his lips to the side in a wince that swallowed the confession. Lance’s jaw became a tight line of concern, his fingers lacing with Keith’s and fiery gaze locked on the star-filled eyes he had fallen in love with so long ago.

“My dear residents of the Castle of Lions!” Crowed Coran over the intercom, and Lance’s brows condensed into a thundercloud across his forehead. “We are currently experiencing some complications with our power systems; I believe I have discovered a circuit system that was damaged in the last battle!”

Keith brought their intertwined fingers up to his lips and pressed a lingering kiss to the back of Lance’s hand; a silent promise that he was fine for the moment.

“I shall be rerouting power to fix this, but I am not sure of the full effect of these damages. The Castle may react strangely while I fix this, but I doubt anything will happen! Um, but if you want to consider having your weapons on hand until I finish scanning the systems, that would certainly not be unwise! Okay then, have a lovely day!”

Keith’s fingers tightened around Lance’s, and the taller boy’s nose wrinkled at the blinking intercom. He let out a full-bodied groan, flopping starfish across the bed and fumbling between the mattress and the wall for his weapon.

“Guess our first date is going to be at a haunted Castle,” he teased, drawing the two black bayards from their hiding places as Keith snatched his knife from the bedside table. “Much fancier than a haunted house, huh cariño?”

“I said no pet names!”

“Awwww, you’re blushing~”

“ _Lance!_ ”

“Come on, Samurai! Our squadron of brave fighters await their commanders!” Teased Lance, popping off the bed and throwing a smirk at the roses blossoming up Keith’s ears. “Let’s get going!”

Keith threw his arms around Lance’s stomach and yanked the squirming mass of limbs he happened to be dating back onto the bed, squishing his lips together to hide the laughter bubbling inside at Lance’s yelp.

“You know they aren’t ready yet, don’t you try to ru—!”

“ _Lance!_ ” Shrieked Pidge, the door whipping open to allow the Green Paladin to skid in, hair a tangled mess hiding half her face and glasses dangling from one ear. “We can’t find Keith! He’s not in his—”

Keith poked his head out from behind Lance’s shoulder, raising his free hand while continuing to hold the pouting boy with his other arm. His ponytail brushed at his shoulders and Lance stole a smile up at Pidge’s jaw drop.

“Not sucked into an alternate reality,” Keith promised Pidge, pecking his lips to Lance’s cheek and pulling back with a scowl. “And I wasn’t finished with your hair!”

“Sorry, sorry!” Replied Lance, raising his hands in surrender and sitting back up so Keith could resume his rhythm. “We’ll be along soon, Pidgey; has anything started going haywire yet?”

Pidge’s eyes were fixed on them, her shoulders arching like a cat’s and her breath a hissing growl. She brought both hands to her face, clawing down it as if clinging to her sanity and knocking her glasses to the floor.

“If you two quiznaking see a kiss as a _freaking platonic gesture_ ,” she practically snarled, palms pressing together as she snapped them down towards the two boys cuddling and helping each other with their hair, “and not a blatant declaration of love, I swear to everything holy, unholy, and _technological_ that I will hack the Castle to bring chaos down _on your stupid, stupid, stupid dense heads!_ ”

Lance could now conclusively say that humans could not glow with rage. Because, if they could, Pidge would be bright enough to blind the entire solar system. Keith gulped, shrinking back from the lion-eyed girl, and Lance held up his hands as a shield between her and the couple.

“We’re dating, we’re dating!” He shrieked. “I promise we’re a couple! So save the death aura for the battalion of psycho castle gladiators waiting to attack, please and thank you!”

Pidge held perfectly still for a solid dobash. Keith sighed, reaching forward to cover Lance’s ears just as cool hands slid over his own.

“KLANCE IS CANON KING!” Screamed Pidge, tearing from the room and whooping her way down the hall.

Keith didn’t bother trying to hide the peal of laughter that nearly shook him from his feet, and Lance’s own gasping giggles joined in barely a tick later.

“I don’t think we need to tell anyone,” managed Keith. “Pidge’ll do that for us.”

“Let her have this,” replied Lance, the giggles nearly making his words incomprehensible. “She’s been waiting for this for over half a decaphoeb. She’s definitely earned it.”

“OH HECK YEAH I HAVE, YOU PINING FOOLS! NOW GET OUT HERE AND _PREPARE TO TELL IT ALL, SUCKERS!_ ”

Keith giggled, dropping his arms to wrap around Lance’s waist and nuzzling his head onto his partner’s shoulder.

“Glad we didn’t go for a subtler route?” Teased Lance, pecking his nose and leaning back into the embrace.

“Very,” replied Keith, shuddering at Pidge’s murderous reaction, tightening his hold on Lance. “Your hunches are annoyingly accurate.”

“It’s a talent,” said Lance, grinning as his hands covering Keith’s and shoulders uncoiled under his boyfriend’s weight. “And I’d give it one dobash till she screams again if we don’t haul our butts out of this room and help fortify ourselves against a full-on castle assault soon.”

“I’m not betting against you,” decided Keith, stretching his arms over his head with a growling series of _POP_ s. “Where should we go?”

Lance snickered as Keith yawned, sliding from between his boyfriend’s legs and brushing a particularly floppy curl back behind his ear.

“‘Llura’s room,” he stated, snatching Keith’s jacket from its hook and nailing his partner in the face with the soft pink fabric. “She’s still on bedrest, remember? And, I swear, if she sneaks out of that room one more time, Coran’s going to stick her in a cryopod just so she’ll get some sort of sleep!”

“Good point,” grumbled Keith, jerking Lance’s olive jacket from the back of the door and flinging it over the taller boy’s shrieking head. “I think Pidge has everyone, you ready yet?”

Lance’s flailing fingers bounced over the hood of his jacket, snagging a seam and yanking the worn fabric off his head. The zipper hit his nose on the way down.

“This would be faster if you hadn’t thr—”

“COME ON, SLOWPOKES! WE’VE GOT TO GET A MOVE ON!”

“Nailed it!” Crowed Lance, hitching the hoodie over his shoulders and dropping a wink at Keith. “Okay, let’s go knock these guys out of the water!”

Keith smiled, tightening his fingerless gloves over his fingers and locking his gaze on the twin shards of summer sky captured in his boyfriend’s eyes. They were dancing again, the soft blue glow of the Altean marks curving across his cheeks bouncing like ripples in his irises, and Keith counted each wave as it beat in time with his heart.

“Let’s do this, Sharpshooter.”

Lance threw a smile over his shoulder, eyes crinkling around the edges, and dove down the corridor. Keith was barely a tick behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I own nothing!  
> Te amo=I love you (used for immediate family and spouses)  
> Te quiero=I love you (used for family, close friends, and dates)  
> Cállate, alma gemela=Shut up, soulmate  
> Gracias. Me encantó=Thank you. I loved it  
> Cariño=Sweetheart


	2. Protect

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Keith, hit the deck!” Shrieked Lance, flipping the blaster over his shoulder and slamming four shots into the frenzied gladiator, eyes locked on the drones forming a ring of lasers around his head.

“Keith, hit the deck!” Shrieked Lance, flipping the blaster over his shoulder and slamming four shots into the frenzied gladiator, eyes locked on the drones forming a ring of lasers around his head.

“Thanks!” Yelled Keith, feet launching off the wall as his jet pack swung him over the dining table and chairs turned barricade.

He ripped his sword through another gladiator whose heavy footsteps had brought it directly behind a furiously typing Pidge. Thick green headphones hid her in a world of screaming radio waves, her blur of fingers deciphering each pulse and skittering eyes converting answers into code.

“Just a few more dobashes!” She growled, and Lance’s sword swiped through a laser streaking towards her computer screen. “Just a few more…”

Keith hissed, jerking his knife free of the wall and snapping it into a full sword. Lance threw himself beneath another volley of fire, flipping his bayard into a sword and sending a smirk at Keith’s back. Then he jamming it into the ground, snapping both legs in wide crescents through the air. One foot blew a drone into its neighbor, and the other smashed full-force into the next in line, explosions cramming the thin hallway.

Lance barely touched down in time to spin, lunging into a backbend to avoid a barrage of blue lasers. Keith grinned, fire crackling in his smile as Lance’s shoes shot up off the ground, his heel smashed against a glowing blue drone. But Lance didn’t wait for his feet to touch the floor this time; he still the other two to keep at bay. Gun form.

Jerking one hand off the ground, with his legs still curving through the air and free palm sliding slightly without his armor, Lance flicked off two shots at the robots. Smoking heaps cracked against the ground and Lance rolled back to his feet, sweat curling beside his glittering grin.

That was when the gravity shut off. Pidge screeched, clawing at her computer, and Keith jerked his sword between her and the approaching army of gladiators.

“Hunk!” He screamed into the comms, a metal kick smashing into the bayard braced against his arm. “We need you to get into the control room!”

“Yep, some gravity would be great over here!” Shrieked Lance, shooting a roaring holographic bear he vaguely remembered from his Altean lessons dead in the forehead.

The blast punched him backwards, smashing his shoulder into the wall and snapping his head just shy of a concussion. Lance exhaled, a hiss of pain torn from between his gritted teeth, and his fingers curled tighter around the blaster. 

“Keith, I’m in!” Shouted Hunk, dragging the Black Paladin back to the present. “I’m going to get the gravity back, okay?”

“Do it!” Yelled Keith, dropping his weapons and yanking Pidge into his arms.

She wrapped the computers and equipment carefully close to her chest and rolled her shoulders back, bracing for impact.

Lance raised his gun.

He _really_ needed to have a talk with Coran about the fact that the _entire Castle_ had determined that “power off” really meant “attack and kill everyone inside!” And, sure, he got it, Alfor had been dying and the entire Castle had been swamped with enemy Galra that he couldn’t risk finding Allura; it made sense that “destroy” would be his last order. But, newsflash, _they weren’t being invaded anymore and these guys were now trying to kill **them!**_

Not to mention, Lotor’s generals were trapped on the other side of the ship, and if their stupid Castleship caused a diplomatic incident, Lance was going to have _words_ with the next gladiator he sparred against. Hopefully, Ezor hadn’t been sarcastic when she said a small army assaulting them as the lights went haywire, the gravity flipping directions, occasional screeching at a frequency so painfully high that Keith looked like he wanted to throw up, and doors locking them all in separate rooms of death was their usual for spy missions.  
And Lance thought being a paladin was weird.

The gravity broke over Keith’s shoulders like a mind meld with both Lance and Black, a relentless and familiar presence grounding him back to his reality. Except Lance somehow did that _without_ slamming Keith into the floor, legs spread in a wide stance as Pidge clung to her technology for dear life. Astounding, truly.

“Duck!” Roared Lance, rolling to a crouch and bracing the gun against his shoulder in a movement more fluid than breathing.

A shot of pain flickered over Keith’s eyes, heat welling behind his contacts like an onslaught of fiery toothpicks grazing just close enough to his sclera that he wasn’t sure if the licking flames were touching or not…

Pidge’s fingers clenched the collar of his jacket, ripping his head out of the way as Lance’s lasers ripped through three gladiators towering over Keith and Pidge, Shiro’s voice drifting in through their makeshift comms.

“We’re almost done over here!” Shouted the Blue Paladin, the hiss of Adam’s arrows and crackle Matt’s staff nearly drowning out his voice. “We’ll be at the Princess’ room in three dobashes! Pidge, how’s the system reboot coming?”

“Slowly!” She snapped, fingers hammering at the keyboard and nose grazing the screen, mouth scrunched in a malfunctioning “n” as Keith lowered her to the floor like a rabid animal. “The Castle keeps wiping my progress! I need more time over here!”

“Then we’ll buy it for you!” Keith’s voice tore through the chaos, ricocheting down the hallway and cutting through Pidge’s headphones. “We’ve got this, guys!”

The barricade cracked in response, the screech of metal eerie and a half-throttled snarl filtering through the comms.

“Lance!” Screamed Keith as his boyfriend was smashed into the table again, throat crushed in a gladiator’s grasp and bayard embedded in a sputtering robot a few feet away.

Lance hissed, feet hovering a foot off the ground and fingers scrabbling at the armored hand, breath splintering under the bruising grip. Keith launched himself over the barricade, whipping his knife in an arc through the robot’s neck and kicking the head into an approaching gladiator.

Lance crumpled, knees striking the ground and chest heaving, breaths rattling and choking in his throat. His fingers were blurred, water on a painting, nothing more than a blackening illusion against the floor, a piercing ringing deafening him to the world.

“Lance! Can you hear me?” Cried Keith, sinking beside his boyfriend, hand rubbing circles into the taut muscles of his back. “Lance, come on, breathe.”

A tremor rocked Lance’s body, nearly shaking him from his knees, and a wheeze tore from his throat like a knife. Keith’s fingers covered his own on the ground. “I’ve got you, Lance. Breathe.”

Lance’s fingers curved, sliding over Keith’s gloves and eyes squeezing shut. Focus. He didn’t need to breathe, he needed to focus.

His bayard was to the right. The crashing steps of gladiators were screaming through the hallway towards them, and the hum of drones throbbed from a side corridor. Keith’s pitch was rising, the hand on Lance’s back disappearing to cradle his cheek, thumb brushing just shy of his Altean markings.

“Lance, you’ve got this, come on!” Begged his fellow Black Paladin. “Breathe! I need you right now!”

Lance was moving before he realized it.

Shiro and Adam ripped around the corner, Matt’s staff littering the hallway with demolished drones, and Pidge let out a triumphant cackle from behind them. But Lance’s eyes never left Keith’s as he dove forward, snatching his sword from the robot’s chest and swinging to redirect a thrust coming at his side. The block shoved the gladiator off balance and Lance seized his attacker’s wrist, flipping them over his shoulder and slamming the droid into their reinforcement. He dropped to a crouch, sucking a whistling, shallow excuse for a breath through his teeth, and managed a grimace at Keith.

“I’ve got you too,” he whispered.

Pidge’s fingers blitzed the keyboard, the light bouncing off her glasses and lip caught between her teeth. Her eyebrows were a thundercloud on her forehead, and a sound between _hnn_ and _ugh_ trailed from her throat. She was so close.

Keith darted to Lance’s side as the taller boy yanked in another hissing breath, fingers settling over his shoulder, their silent question hanging in the air heavier than any words. Shiro’s glowing fist punched through a gladiator in front of them, Adam sniped three more drones out of the air, and Matt’s staff smashed one of the robots back into its comrade. Lance exhaled.

His fingers hand covered Keith’s, a smile flickering at the corner of his lips.

“Let’s wipe the floor with these guys!” He crowed, lunging into the fray, and Keith was half a step behind.

The team was a whirlwind, Lance’s energy bolts surrounding them like a shield and blood flying with every movement. Keith was barely thinking anymore, just moving. Moving, moving, constantly moving. A punch flew past his head, and Lance flipped the gun over his shoulder immediately, never stopping as he shot twice, swapped the blaster to his free hand, and swung it back up to cover Shiro’s front. Keith almost laughed, catapulting off a gladiator’s shoulders and whipping his blade into another’s chest. He ripped it out a tick later, slashing to his left, and Shiro body-slammed the robot approaching on his right.

Adam guarded Pidge, whose muttering was filling the air almost as much as the screech of severed metal, his shots joining Lance’s to create a web of glittering death around the team. Matt’s staff crackled, spinning over his head and crushing the faces of three gladiators that made the mistake of getting too close. His breath had been reduced to heaving, shallow cuts and dark bruises littered his body, but he had no trouble snapping his weapon through a drone trying to weave through Adam and Lance’s laser shield.

Keith’s eyes were on fire, his contacts feeling like they were searing into his head, and he growled, blinking rapidly to cool the flames. He heard Lance’s scream too late.

Lance’s shoulder slammed into Keith’s chest, throwing him off his feet, and Keith’s breath was blown from his body even before he hit the ground. Lance’s eyes, wide and blue, were locked on his. A faint smile tilted up at his lips, stretching up into his irises, and light flooded them.

The laser seared into his side, burning through the olive hoodie and ripping a scream from Lance’s curved lips. His face contorted, rippling with agony, and Keith couldn’t breathe. His heartbeat was deafening in his ears, his blood roaring through his veins, and his eyes burning for more reasons than he could admit, but he couldn’t breathe.

_How could Keith possibly breathe?_

“Hey man…” breathed Lance.

_How could he possibly breathe when Lance was clutching his side, blood soaking through, jacket mangled, and somehow still grinning at the boy he had just gotten shot protecting?_

Lance’s smile softened, his eyes fluttering, and a low exhale drained his locked shoulders. Then his legs shook themselves off the floor and Lance’s breath trailed through the air as his body pitched towards the ground.

Keith’s scream tore through the corridor.

He lunged for his boyfriend, arms wrapping around the limp form and cradling his head close to Keith’s throbbing heart. His fingers fumbling, tripping across Lance’s neck in a frantic hunt for his pulse.

He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t breathe. _Keith couldn’t breathe._

_Thmp thmp. Thmp thmp._

“Lance?” Whispered Keith, the word cracking in his mouth, and blood pooled on the floor.

The gladiator raised its gun again. Shiro screamed something, Adam’s roar trying to pierce through the fog consuming Keith’s mind, and Pidge’s clicking grew distant.

Protect. He had to protect Lance.

_He had to protect, no matter what._

_Protect._

The gladiator’s gun jerked up to block the sword, and Keith twisted, slicing his blade through the weapon. He darted beneath the robot’s legs, snapping up and crashing the sword into the gladiator’s shield. His eyes were surrounded by a glowing yellow sclera, a shimmer of purple weaving itself across his cheek.

Keith growled, the guttural threat rippling deep from his throat, and the sword grew light in his grasp. His teeth sharpened, gritting into one another, and the purple began to throb on his cheek. Keith snarled, summoning his bayard into his free hand, and tearing into the defense.

“Adam, unless someone is dying, _make Shiro stop yelling!_ ” Snapped Pidge, bashing her fist against the keyboard as the program started over. “Is everyone alive?!”

“Yes!” Shouted Adam, eyes following the hitching rise and fall of Lance’s chest like a wave breaking against the beach. “Uh, technically!”

“ _Then make him shut up!_ ”

Keith shot to the side, a snap of his wrist sending the blade ripping through the gladiator’s wrists. The shield clattered to the ground, Keith materializing in the air behind the robot like a wraith, violet eyes gleaming in the low light.

His bayard ripped the robot in half, curving from shoulder to hip, wires fizzing as he dropped into a crouch behind the gladiator.

“That,” he snarled, “is why you don’t mess with my boyfriend.”

Then he exploded into combat. The swords became extensions of his limbs, tearing through anything that stood between him and his family. His legs were elastic metal, shields for his allies and battering rams against his enemies, the whole world narrowing down to a single mission.

_No one was allowed to hurt his family. No one. Keith would protect the ones he loved. **He would protect.**_

By the time Pidge jabbed the final three buttons, flickering the lights out on the remaining drones two dobashes later, there wasn’t a single intact gladiator in the corridor. Keith’s eyes were on fire, his head was filled with thunder from one too many blows, and a scraping stab to the thigh slowed him to a limp. But the moment the robots dropped and the lights came back on, he dropped both swords and spun, eyes flying to Lance’s side.

“Hey, handsome,” croaked Lance as Keith’s gaze locked on him, one hand pressed to his side and a smile curling across snowy lips. “How’d it go? Are we both stuck in healing pods?”

“No,” whispered Keith, tripping to his boyfriend’s side and kneeling on the frozen metal, a trail of blood connecting him to the pool next to Lance. “No, I’m okay. I’m sorry.”

Lance’s smile vanished, twisting into a deep frown, and his free arm slid through the air to cradle Keith’s cheek.

Then it pinched his nose closed.

“Apologize for being okay again and I poke your eyes out!” Warned Lance, ignoring Keith’s flurry of protests and struggling. “Thanks for protecting me, Samurai.”

Keith batted his hand aside, curving an arm beneath Lance’s knees and lifting the disturbingly light teen into the air. Lance’s hands pressed to his wound, giggling as he studied Keith’s face. “Nice tattoo,” he teased. “Matches your eyes.”

“Lance, stop talking!” Scolded Keith, the yellow draining from his sclera even as the purple solidified across his cheek. “We need to get you to a healing pod!”

“Flirting later?”

“You mean you making me annoyingly flustered?” Grumbled Keith. “I don’t think you’d listen if I said no.”

Lance giggled, relaxing into Keith’s chest and fluttering his eyes shut.

“Ah, you know me so well.”

Hunk’s head poked over the barricade, peering down at the two of them with one eyebrow curving up until it nearly hit his hairline. Adam and Matt had frozen where they stood a few feet away, Shiro carefully supported between the two, and all three were fixated on the couple in the center of the room.

Keith groaned. Lance grinned. Pidge’s eyes flew wider than she would have thought biologically possible, and Lance flashed her a thumbs-up.

“Did they just—?”

“OH YEAH, EVERYONE GUESS WHAT!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I own nothing!


	3. Shadows Live in Smiles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “ _Anyway_ , how are the others doing?” He asked, ignoring Pidge’s shrieking as she wrenched the offending fabric off her face, and dodging Keith’s shot with his own pillow. “Ez and Zethrid, Acxa and Romelle and Narti? Did they all come out okay? Not going to shank us for our Castle trying to kill them or anything?”

Keith wasn’t sure why the crew was still screaming at the couple after they had already covered their ears, but he was sorely tempted to make them stop via the knife on the medbay’s bedside table. Also, his glasses were digging into his nose.

“I can’t believe it!” Hunk was shrieking, hands locked around Lance’s shoulders and shaking him mercilessly as if he _hadn’t_ just been dropped out of a freezing cold cryopod ten dobashes ago. “You guys actually got together! _You actually got together! You’re actually together now!_ ”

“And about time!” Huffed Adam, making no move to save his pupil from Hunk’s jerking. “If you took much longer, I would have lost the bet!”

Shiro’s lips tugged down into a pout at that, and Matt folded his arms with a triumphant tilt of his chin. Lance giggled as Matt extended a hand towards Shiro, bouncing his fingers down against his palm, smile threatening to split his face open.

“I told you they didn’t have that much patience!” He added, nudging Shiro with his elbow as the man tugged a pouch of gac from his belt.

“They seemed to have _plenty_ ,” grumbled Pidge. “They freaking swapped jackets and matched necklaces _and constantly made heart eyes at each other for half a decaphoeb—!_ ”

“My boy, you have grown so well!” Wailed Coran, trapping Lance and Hunk in a massive hug as tears cascaded down his cheeks. “You have finally found and confessed to your match! May you be blessed with eternal happiness togetherrrrrrrrr!”

“Yep, thanks!” Rasped Lance, fingers flexing where they lay trapped by his side. “Now, um! About the whole _letting-Lance-breathe_ thing! Can that maybe be a thing?”

“I think not!” Teased Allura, long arms snaking around Lance’s neck as she pulled him in tightly. “This calls for a grand celebration.”

“We started dating, we didn’t get engaged!”

“Oh, no, this party is to commemorate the heroic success of the crew in surviving your…I believe the word is pining?” Retorted Allura, a smile tugging at the edge of her lips.

She withdrew carefully, cradling Lance’s face in her soft hands and pressing her forehead to his. “I am so happy for you, Lan. So very happy,” she whispered, her Altean flowing like a bridge between the two siblings. “Treat him well; you two deserve nothing less than each other.”

Lance exhaled slowly, sliding his arms free of the others’ hold and pulling Allura in for another hug, his words soft beside her ear.

“Thank you, ‘Lura. I hope you and Acxa can get together soon too.”

Allura’s marks flared bright pink and she tightened her embrace, blowing out a full-body sigh.

“As do I.”

“Keith, you’re going to have soooooooo much dirt on Lance!” Chirped Pidge, clambering onto the medbay bed behind the taller paladin. “Sappy boyfriend or not, you’d better share! You don’t get to be the only one tormenting Lance!”

“Yeah, man!” Agreed Hunk, slinging an arm around Keith’s shoulders and beaming until his nose scrunched under the force of his joy. “If you can finally get him to actually say what he wants for his birthday, that’d be awesome! He always says ‘nothing’ or makes some sort of outrageous demand he knows we can’t do!”

Lance squawked in denial and flung Keith’s pillow into Hunk’s face. Shiro laughed, one hand resting over Adam’s shoulders as his partner wrapped an arm around his waist, a fond tilt to his mouth. Allura giggled, Coran continued to bawl, and Pidge dove behind Keith for cover. Matt counted his gac, winking at Lance and mouthing the words _I bet on you_ across the chattering space. Pidge peeked over Keith’s shoulder and smirked as Keith folded his arms, cocking an eyebrow at his boyfriend.

Lance just nailed them both in the face with his pillow.

“ _Anyway_ , how are the others doing?” He asked, ignoring Pidge’s shrieking as she wrenched the offending fabric off her face, and dodging Keith’s shot with his own pillow. “Ez and Zethrid, Acxa and Romelle and Narti? Did they all come out okay? Not going to shank us for our Castle trying to kill them or anything?”

A shot of ice split the air, flickering in the looks passed between his teammates and hanging in the silence like icicles waiting to fall and slice him to ribbons. Lance drew his shoulders back, locking his jaw and sliding his free hand to tangle with Keith’s taut fingers, tugging threads of tension free from his palm.

“Ugh, fine!” Groaned Lance, tossing his free arm in the air and splintering the web of freezing silence weaving across the medbay. “I’ll talk to Ez about it, Allura, could you handle Acxa? I mean, sure, it’s our Castle and all that, but it’s not like we sicced it on them; it was trying to kill all of us!”

Lance hopped off the bed, giving Keith’s hand a quick squeeze before releasing, and dropped his neck to one side with a sharp _CRACK_. “Did they wind up in cryopods or are they just being grumpy?”

Keith’s fingers wrapped around Lance’s wrist, tugging him back onto the bed with a soft _bmp_ , his pinched violet eyes gentle on his partner. And hey, that new mark was almost the same shade of purple. Plus, Keith’s nose was scrunched under his thick black glasses, which Lance was incredibly indignant that he didn’t already know about because _it was not fair for him to be this cute—_

“Lance,” breathed Keith, the name almost sounding reverent on his tongue. “It’s not that.”

“There is no diplomatic incident,” assured Allura as her hand brushed against his back, settling on the shoulder opposite from her. “Everyone is okay. The main problem is……is the cryofreeze pods.”

_“Lance, I didn’t ask for your opinion!” Growled Shiro’s clone, snapping his arm to the side like that could erase the boy standing in front of him. “Lotor and I have this under control; go train or something.”_

_“Shiro, you need to take a break!” Argued Lance, stepping between the Black Paladin and the door. “You’re pushing yourself too hard! You told me your headaches have been getting worse; we’re all worried about you, you know?”_

_“Don’t be!” Snapped Shiro, rounding on Lance and fixing him with a volcanic stare. “Focus on Voltron! We need to be ending this war, not playing house with one another! I told you to leave, Lance; that’s an order!”_

Lance’s eyes darted to Keith’s, turning his hand over and interlacing their fingers as his boyfriend blew out a slow breath, lips pursed to only allow a thin stream of air through.

He hoped his hand wasn’t shaking as much as his voice.

“He’s out, isn’t he?”

Kuron sank into the familiar chair, the tall back a welcome relief for his sore shoulders, his eyes flickering to the metal arm against the smooth white counter. If he blinked wrong, he almost thought he saw a purple glow humming around his fingers. His head was light, like cotton on the first breeze of summer; not stuffed full of angry wasps for the first time since he had connected with the Black Lion.

Yeah, he wasn’t going anywhere near that hangar.

_“Come on, Lance, don’t play around,” goaded Shiro, a smile perched on his lips as he beckoned on the other side of the arena. “Come at me!”_

_Lance grinned, popping from one foot to the other and darting feints at his leader’s head._

_“Oh, you are asking for it!” He crowed, making no move to actually attack. “Don’t blame me when I wipe the floor with you, Mr. Big Man!”_

_Shiro chuckled, shaking his head with that fond hint that rested like a balm over the bruises spreading across Lance’s heart._

_“Sounds like a deal,” he teased, lunging with a vicious right jab and jolting the hairs on Lance’s neck straight up like lightning rods; Shiro had never led with his prosthetic before._

_Maybe he was finally getting more comfortable with the arm?_

_Lance’s grin turned warm, curling into his eyes, and he dropped to slide between Shiro’s legs, rolling back to his feet directly behind his leader. He launched himself to the right, dodging Shiro’s arcing kick and whipping his own leg out to snare the man’s grounded ankle._

_“That’s a sweep!” Cheered Lance, gold bubbling in his chest because_ he had never beaten Shiro before— __

_“Keep going!” Snapped Shiro, planting his foot and hurling his knee towards Lance’s nose. “After you swept me, what would you have done? You’ve got to bring it all the time! How do you know I couldn’t get out of that on the ground?”_

_Lance yelped, diving to safety from the incoming knee and stumbling away from the sneering man in front of him._

_“Shiro,” he breathed. “Slow down, you told us not to sweep people during sparring matches. You didn’t want us to get concussions.”_

_“I want you to be strong enough to stay alive in battle!” Shot back the clone, punctuating his statement with a stomping kick at Lance’s nose. “I want you guys to show me you can survive!”_

_“Shiro, calm down!” Squawked Lance, ducking inside the kick and tapping Shiro’s cheek with his fist. “See, I won? I’m okay, Shiro. I can survive, promise.”_

_“Can you?!” Snarled Shiro, finger jabbing towards Lance’s feet. “You went out-of-bounds ages ago! If this was a Galra battleship, you’d have had your back against the wall! You need to stop running away, Lance!”_

_Lance swallowed, the air like glass scraping against his throat. His fingers curled into a fist by his side._

_“Shiro,” he said, warmth bleeding from his words like pain from his chest, “we’re not on a Galra battleship. We’re all in the Castle of Lions. We’re all okay. You’ve protected us. We’ve made huge strides in the war, we’ll go home soon. Okay?”_

_Shiro’s breath fractured, and Lance held up both palms in the white Altean lighting as his pulse began to recover._

_“We’re okay.”_

_Because Lance had to have been imagining the burning glow to Shiro’s fist only a few ticks ago._

Keith’s free hand flew to Lance’s shoulder, the silent question swinging like a frenzied pendulum between the partners as deep violet bore into Lance’s ocean-blue gaze.

But how was Lance supposed to answer something like that?

“So, you’re like a clone of the real Shiro?” Chirped Ezor, dumping a bowl full of glittering pink spikes in front of him. “But you’ve probably got, like, totally different experiences, don’t you? I mean, you were fighting off Madam Ultra Witch Creep in your head for two phoebs!”

“I—uh, yes,” admitted Kuron, one eyebrow creeping up at the increasingly bright flurry of sparkles coming from his food. “I wasn’t sure what was happening; I just knew something was…off. Something that wasn’t good for my team. I still can’t believe I lost control like that.”

“It is unlikely that Haggar will target you again,” promised Acxa, her blue hand soft against his shoulder. “She has been driven from her home base. Not to mention, you were in cryofreeze for three phoebs; she likely believes you are out of commission.”

“The clone came to the Generals’ aid against the Castle,” said Allura, her fingers pressing circles of warmth into Lance’s back. “He is free of Haggar’s control, for now at least. Keith and Adam insisted that we wait to decide anything for certain about his situation until you were awake.”

Keith squeezed Lance’s hand, pressing his forehead against Lance’s and blowing cool breath over the rippling blue Altean mark.

“You’re a Black Paladin too,” he murmured, bumping their noses together. “Go on, I’m listening.”

_“Yeah, go on ahead of me!” Chirped Lance, shoving Pidge and Hunk towards their lab as he caught the echo of Shiro’s stomping footfalls coming towards them. “I’m going to talk strategy with our fearless leader, be right back!”_

_Pidge swatted his hands away with a scowl, and Hunk tossed him a quick nod._

_“Got it, buddy,” he replied, rounding on Pidge and sliding back into their technological babble like it was a second language to him._

_Lance smiled, swallowing the ache throbbing with each heartbeat, and strode to meet Shiro. He knew that type of walking; it was the same thing Keith did whenever he was—had done whenever he was trying to find Lance to review plans with him._

_Lance’s eyes stung, his throat clogged with air, and he gulped down the desire to crawl back into bed and hide until the wave of pain pain pain washed out of his system. If Shiro was looking for him right then, Lance wasn’t going to pass up this opportunity to finally be enough._

_“Shiro!” He called, gaze darting to the older man stalking towards the training room. “Hey, you got a minute?”_

_“Not now, Lance!” Snapped the clone, eyes burning Lance down to ash and blowing him away like a tornado. “I’ve got work to do!”_

_“Yeah, I know,” replied Lance, jamming his hands in his pockets as another crash of pain pain pain rocked his body. “I was going to ask if you wanted any help with that! I mean, I was Keith’s right hand man; Red Paladin and all that. We got a lot more done when we were working together. And, I mean, I’m still the Red Paladin. I’m your right hand too, Shiro.”_

_Shiro’s mouth hardened into a stone wall, his gaze cutting and words like ice balls exploding against Lance’s skin._

_“I don’t need your help. Go train, Lance. That’s an order.”_

“Okay.”

Lance chiselled a smile onto his face, turning to the rest of the team and laying concrete into his voice for his words to steady themselves against. “Okay. That’s the situation, right?”

Allura’s crystalline eyes blinked rapid-fire, teeth catching her lip, and Pidge’s fists clenched. Hunk’s eyebrows were curved, weighed down by concern, and Shiro was flicking his gaze between a nearly-growling Adam and the Black Paladin on the bed. Lance kept smiling. “Okay. So we handle that.”

“And if the witch comes for you again, you just crush her!” Suggested Zethrid, snagging one of the cones from Kuron’s bowl and popping it into her mouth. “I’m an expert at crushing, I can teach you!”

“He is likely well-trained in combat, Zethrid,” replied Narti, a ripple flickering across her jaw reminiscent of chuckle. “He was modelled after the Blue Paladin, after all.”

Kuron frowned, the pink cones burning tears into his eyes as the spices shot straight into his nose, and he cleared his throat as best as he could.

“Actually, I’m a clone of the Black Paladin,” he corrected, gaze darting around the kitchen for any nutrient water packets.

Keith didn’t move. His eyes stayed locked on Lance’s, piercing purple reaching out over Lance’s walls, stretching down towards the drowning boy below. His hand was still settled on Lance’s shoulder.

But how was Lance supposed to answer that?!

__  
“Shiro, we’re all on the same side here—”  
**“I told you to stay out of this!”**

Lance’s breath was too loud as it scraped against his lungs, searing blisters into his esophagus and scalding his mouth like magma. His heart was screaming, punching at his ribcage like it wanted to break free, grab his bayard, and slam down a barrier between that clone and his family. It was roaring for him to gather everyone in that room into his arms, hide in his bedroom and binge movies with space goodies until they forgot about the menace that had nearly split them apart. It was deafening, deafening, deafening because _he was the Black Paladin now, he was these guys’ Black Paladin, he was their leader, he was their family, he was—_

_**I don’t need your help.** _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I own nothing!


	4. Earn It

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance crumpled, catching his breath in his palm and slamming it back over his mouth as his forehead crashed into Keith’s shoulder. His lungs heaved, a silent scream locking his jaw as he crushed his eyes shut and drew his shoulders up as if that could hide him from the team’s cries.

Lance crumpled, catching his breath in his palm and slamming it back over his mouth as his forehead crashed into Keith’s shoulder. His lungs heaved, a silent scream locking his jaw as he crushed his eyes shut and drew his shoulders up as if that could hide him from the team’s cries. 

_But he wasn’t—_

“Lance,” whispered Keith, reaching down to cup his boyfriend’s face and brushing his thumb, trembling from Lance’s shivers, over the clenched Altean markings. “Come on, match my breathing. It’s a competition; favorite shower rights are the prize, okay?”

Lance gasped out a giggle, the memory of Shiro’s freezing, dismissive, words on Naxzela burning away in the face of Keith’s challenge.

_But he wasn’t—_

Allura’s arms wrapped around his stomach, her cheek pressing into his back, the quiet humming of their favorite song drowning out the clone’s threat to take him away from Red. Adam’s fingers threaded through his brown curls, massaging his scalp as he stood guard between Lance and the world.

“It’s okay, hermano,” breathed Adam, tracing a heart atop his head and bending down to press a kiss to his forehead. “We’ve got you.”

Keith paused, fingers trailing to Lance’s throbbing pulse before he tapped the chevrons scrunched onto caramel cheeks twice. A faint smile, sadness tinging each edge, slid onto his lips.

“Knock knock, let me in, Lance. We decide together. So, come on, talk. That’s your thing, right?”

Zethrid choked, spewing glittering pink shrapnel across table, Narti arched an eyebrow, and Acxa’s face went completely blank for a tick. Ezor tumbled from her chair, wheezing laughter as she clutched her stomach and curled into a giggling ball on the floor.

“You’re kidding! _You are joking!_ Oh my spear, you’ve got to be messing with me!”

“Which one?” Asked Acxa, the corners of her mouth twitching as Narti’s cat rolled her eyes nearly into the back of her head.

“It hardly matters; the workmanship is quite hilarious either way,” pointed out Narti.

“But it’s so much better if Haggar was trying to make him look like Lance!” Cackled Ezor, clutching at the seat of her chair but making no effort to haul herself back to her feet. “I really hope it was Lance now!”

Lance swallowed, the words he had thrown at Krolia screaming through his head again. _You can’t protect the people you love without relying on them, because if you try to, you’ll lose them eventually._

Lance’s breath hitched, rocking his shoulders as he squeezed his eyes shut and leaned into the cocoon of warmth surrounding him. Every touch was like a waterfall of summer rain, washing away tension he hadn’t even realized was still there. They drew the muscles to relaxation, draining the spiraling vortex of words he had bit back, had swallowed, had spoken so quietly only he could hear them. They were featherlight kisses against his skin, brushing away the facade he put on to protect those around him, the one for when he needed to be strong, to be reliable, to be there for everyone all the time.

Because his friends were strong, were reliable, were willing to be there for him.

Because these people, who he so often had to drag to bed or throw food at until they ate or trick into taking breaks, these people who he helped, they could take care of him too.

Because he didn’t _need_ to be strong for them. He needed to be _Lance_ for them.

Kuron blinked. He could have sworn he’d seen the original version of himself earlier when the generals brought him to the bridge to check in with the Voltron team, his hair flopped loosely and hand intertwined with a bespectacled man who looked vaguely familiar…

“He’s clearly modeled after the Blue Paladin!” Protested Zethrid. “I mean, he’s like a carbon copy! And you really think Haggar would be able to transform Keith or Lance into him?”

Kuron’s eyebrows scrunched down, mouth folding in on itself and eyes squinting as if he could make out a translation of their words if he only stared hard enough.

“I don’t want to let you guys down,” whispered Lance, voice cracking into pieces and fingers tightening over Keith’s heart. “You guys deserve…the universe over. And the clone—Kuron—he just, kind of……reminds me that I can’t give you that. Even though I want to.”

“Who do you guys think is the Blue Paladin?” Kuron asked, tilting his head to the side and away from the bowl on the table.

“Shiro,” chorused the four generals, Ezor still sprawled across the floor in a giggle spree.

“Keith and Lance are the Black Paladins,” added Zethrid. “The Princess is the Red one…Alluka? Allika? Allyku?”

“Geez, for someone so smart, you sure can be pretty stupid sometimes!” Snapped Pidge, bouncing down across from Lance and popping her fist against his shoulder. “You deserve just as much as us! We’re your family, Lance. Plus, we’ve got a plan. If that clone gets within a foot of insulting you, I electrocute him first, and then Keith decapitates him.”

“But not before I punch him in the face,” added Shiro, kneeling in front of the bed and resting his hand on Lance’s knee. “I’m not going to let anything happen to you, Lance. Not this time. Plus, I mean, Adam punched him in the face the tick he introduced himself, so I think he knows to be scared of us. He just doesn’t know how scared he _should be._ ”

Adam cracked his knuckles and smirked. Pidge cackled.

“Just say the word, and his food will be poisoned!” Bawled Hunk, dropping beside Lance and trapping him in a side hug. “We’ve got your back, buddy!”

“Incondicionalmente, hermano,” agreed Allura, her arms tightening around his back as tears curved over her own Altean markings. “Si el te hace daño, voy a dejar que el Castillo haga su peor.”

“And you could never let us down, Lance!” Insisted Matt, seizing one of his limp hands and holding on like his life depended on it, eyes glistening in the medbay lights. “You’re my partner in crime getting Pidge to bed and keeping Allura out of the medbay, right? We need you, Lance.”

“We have always needed you, my boy,” murmured Coran, wrapping his arms around Adam’s hand to hug Lance’s head, cheek resting on sun-kissed curls. “Allura may be the heart of Voltron, but you are the heart of this team. You are the reason we are a family. Never forget that.”

“And we want you,” stated Adam, massaging a chevron into Lance’s scalp among a sky full of stars, a sight they had snuck out to stare at together so many times. “Even if we didn’t need you, we will always want you, Lance. You’re not just my brother anymore—you are family to everyone in this room. You’re loved here.”

“Allura!” Snapped Acxa, swatting Zethrid’s arm and passing Kuron a packet of nutrient water. “Princess Allura is the Red Paladin. Pidge is the Green Paladin, Hunk is the Yellow Paladin, and Shiro is the Blue Paladin. Princess Allura did mention to me that there have been power shifts before, so perhaps the structure of Voltron has changed since you were frozen?”

“Oooooooooh, she mentioned that to you, did she, Acxa?” Cooed Ezor. “Funny, she never mentioned that to any of us~”

Narti snickered, scratching her cat behind the ears, and Acxa’s ears burned moonlight silver as she spluttered indignantly at her laughing companion.

“I love you,” promised Keith, pressing a kiss to Lance’s eyelids. “We’re the future, aren’t we? Breathing and all?”

Lance snorted, dropping a return kiss on Keith’s nose.

“Oh, you mean me winning? Yeah, I’d say that’s part of our future,” he teased, nestling into Keith’s forehead as a wave of love threatened to drown him.

Good thing Lance had never been scared of the water.

“Acxa, just ask her out! She clearly likes you too!” Complained Zethrid, raising her arm to block the flurry of pink cones hurled at her in retribution. “She blushes as much as you!”

“What do you need, Lance?” Asked Keith, swiping at the tears sparkling in sea-blue eyes as the ocean inside overflowed. “Tell us what you need. We’re going to help.”

Lance gripped Matt’s hand as Allura’s cheek squished against his back, Pidge’s fingers tightening around his shoulder and her eyes vibrating like volcanoes prepared to explode at any tick. Hunk was sniffling, crushing Lance against his chest, and Shiro’s hold on his knee was unfathomably gentle. Coran was clinging to his head like a koala, Adam’s ministrations familiar as the ocean waves, and Keith’s curved eyes shone like twin suns through the glasses.

“I’m scared,” whispered Lance.

“I know,” replied Keith, brushing his forehead against Lance’s and never once taking his glowing, warm gaze off the beautiful boy in front of him. “I know.”

“You’re not?”

Keith laughed softly, pulling back just enough that they were eye-to-eye. He lingered for a tick, heart twisting like it had been stabbed by the raw vulnerability clinging to Lance like a second skin.

Keith had always thought of Lance like water. He flowed, dipping into the role a place needed him to fill, keeping everyone alive even when nobody noticed. He never spoke of what he needed, what he wanted. It was always about other people. Lance could rage like a tempest, lashing out at anyone who threatened his team, whether it was enemies, a rogue leader, or an abandoning mother. He could soothe, spreading like salve over wounds of the past, coaxing Shiro away from the flashes of Galran prisons that invaded pitch-black rooms, sitting by Allura like an anchor in the storm of her grief, and enveloping Keith in a shield to protect his tears from the world. Lance could sparkle like a summer beach, leaping onto Hunk’s back and crying praises whenever he made another heavenly dish, chasing Pidge around the ship with a water gun and crowing in triumph when he emerged untouched in comparison to the sopping mess of spectacles and clothing next to him. He could envelope, yanking Adam into their family like he was meant to be there all along, following Coran around and helping him with chores so he couldn’t feel isolated from the team, and carving out new traditions with Matt.

But, right then, when his boyfriend was clinging to breath, cracking pieces held together only by his family’s touch, Keith remembered that water could freeze into fragile ice when it got too cold. Because Lance, looking at Keith with not even a single wall up, could shatter.

Kuron felt a spike dig itself into his chest, and his eyes darted down to his clasped hands. Three phoebs. He had been frozen for three phoebs. But he still couldn’t remember what had happened leading up to that……actually, his memory was like a patchwork quilt that had been shredded and no one quite knew how to sew back together. Blurry, frayed ends that fell apart the moment he poked at them, gaping holes where someone had clearly cut out whole swathes of fabric, and split scraps that he knew belonged to some larger picture, but…

“I’m not scared because I have you,” stated Keith, smile curving into his eyes as he pressed a kiss to Lance’s glowing Altean markings. “I have this family. And I know everyone is going to be here for me. _Because you showed me that._ ”

Lance exhaled slowly, breath shuddering out, and his free hand threaded with Keith’s. Then, finally, his lips curled into a soft, sweet, genuine smile.

“¿Dónde está?” Whispered Lance, raising sparkling oceans to meet Keith’s gaze. “Where is he?”

“ _Anyway_ , we called Lotor a varga ago,” snapped Acxa, half her face a pale silver and all of Kuron’s food mysteriously missing from his bowl. “He did not pick up, but I left a message for him. Once he responds, we can decide with you and your team if you would like to accompany us back to the Galra Empire. That being said, you spoke of some sort of facility earlier?”

Kuron winced, the clipped memory washing to the forefront of his mind and digging into his brain.

“Yes, I—”

“Kuron.”

The clone jerked his head up from the table, whipping around in his seat to stare at the familiar paladin leaning against the doorway. “We need to talk.”

Kuron swallowed, fragments of memories crowding his throat as Lance folded his arms, thin eyebrows sitting heavy on his forehead and blue eyes shimmering with light from the hanging lamps. His heart shrank back from the boy, hunching in on itself, but he couldn’t remember why.

“Um…”

“I’ve got no clue how much Haggar was controlling you,” stated Lance, pushing off the doorframe and stalking across the floor in long, sweeping strides, “and how much of what you did and said were your own choices. And honestly, I don’t care. If you hurt Keith again,” Lance’s voice level and cold enough to shatter metal, “if you even think about messing with or insulting my family or me, I’ll drop you at the nearest trading post with a bag of gac and a translator, and not look back once.”

Lance stopped directly in front of Kuron, crouching so he was eye-to-eye with the clone. He didn’t shout. He didn’t yell, he didn’t snarl, he didn’t even growl. Lance just fixed his eyes (slitted and razor-sharp with crackling blizzards) on Kuron’s face, relaxed his shoulders (loose as a cobra), and drew his mouth into a lightning bolt looming across the heavens. His blue marks glowed, sharpening the radiance of his entire face into a glittering spear. “And if you betray us again,” he hissed, the faint echo of a lion’s roar resounding through his words, “ _our family will all show you exactly how much stronger Voltron has become in the last three phoebs._ Are we clear?”

Acxa’s eyebrow curved into a crescent moon on her forehead and Zethrid popped a handful of snacks into her mouth, eyes locked on the two like they were a particularly interesting sports game. Narti’s cat stared intently at her owner’s nails, helping her file them, and Ezor’s giggle fit had been replaced with an unhinged jaw as she gawked at her usually chirpy, blushing, sunshine friend who looked like he wanted to deck Kuron out of the nearest window right then. Lance’s fist rested across his knees, thunder booming in his eyes and lightning flickering from every word.

Kuron never flinched. And, as Lance continued to pin Kuron under his stare, the clone’s chest loosened. His heart rate steadied, a weight slipping from his back as he saw crackling steel in the eyes of the boy who had once shrank back from his shouts.

“Absolutely clear,” Kuron promised, keeping his eyes locked with Lance’s. “I’m sorry.”

Lance drew himself back to his feet, shoulders rising and feet planting themselves like a mountain on the ground.

Then he tossed one arm in the air, stretching it high and pushing up onto his toes until his back let out a series of _POP_ s that Kuron recognized all too well from cryofreeze.

“Good!” Decided Lance, dropping his hands to his hips and beaming at the clone. “And thanks, but if you’re going to apologize, save it for Keith. Don’t forget, you’re on the Castle of Lions now. We protect our own. I mean, I don’t trust you half as far as Pidge could throw you, but, you know…”

Lance twisted, eyes flickering over his shoulder and Altean marks lighting up a soft blue as his family peered in from the doorway. “Not like you can’t earn that.”

Keith stepped beside Lance, lacing his fingers with cocoa ones and bringing them up to press a kiss to the arched knuckles, his words skittering over the skin just softly enough for Lance to hear.

“See? You never miss your mark, sharpshooter.”

Kuron’s eyebrows shot up, a smile splitting across his lips before he could reign it back in, and Ezor let out an ear-piercing shriek of triumph. Keith didn’t even glance over, his eyes swinging into Kuron’s like a steel bat. And as Acxa snatched her share of gac from Zethrid, Narti murmuring congratulations to the couple, and Ezor racing around screeching like a banshee on caffeine while Romelle cooed and Lance shouted something at the party-goers, Keith spoke only two words to Kuron.

“Earn. Him.”

Adam stood behind him, chin raised and eyes flashing like lightning in the dim room. Kuron couldn’t hide his smile, though, as Ezor and Pidge began roasting Lance for taking so long to confess, Coran bawling all over again, and Shiro standing with the Holt siblings beside him, the three watching with the biggest goblin grins anyone had ever seen. Plus, Keith and Adam’s glares, while overflowing with knives, were only so effective when they were trying not to laugh at Lance’s retorts to the two girls.

Still, Kuron turned to face both Adam and Keith head-on, a faint memory clawing at his mind. Huh. When he had first arrived, he had looked up to see them at a similar angle, their eyes glowing murder, actually. He had walked into the room to see Keith cradling Lance in his arms, his hair standing on edge, and Adam’s smile melting into the abyss at his appearance. Pidge had nearly choked, and Shiro’s eyes flickered with a deadly storm. Then Adam tore across the floor and, leaping like a falcon, smashed his fist into Kuron’s nose the moment he gave he his name. He hadn’t cared remotely about the Galran generals’ shrieks and threats as he grabbed Kuron’s collar and dragged them nose-to-nose, hissing out a murderous _scumbag_.

Adam dropped him to the floor and stalked back to his team, and Kuron had made to follow. Keith had materialized between him then, eyes a spitting yellow, and teeth bared. Kuron froze, keeping his eyes fixed on the black-haired boy he couldn’t help but want to protect. Maybe it was part of the cloning element, but maybe it was also that when Keith’s immediate reaction upon seeing him had been _back the quiznak away from us and I’ll consider only sticking one of my swords in your gut instead of both of them!_ Probably a combination of the two.

“I will,” he vowed. “And I’m sorry, Keith.”

“Apologize to Lance!” Snapped Keith, flashing wolf eyes at the hunched clone. “He deserves it!”

“I already did,” replied Kuron, biting back his desire to continue smiling. “He said the same thing about you.”

Keith scoffed, folding his arms as Lance yanked Pidge onto his back and began chasing after a squawking Hunk and snickering Ezor. Adam pressed a kiss to Shiro’s cheek, and Zethrid continued poking a blushing Acxa. A quiet smile blossomed across Keith’s face, shoulders dropping and ponytail grazing the pink jacket hanging loosely on him.

“He would.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I own nothing!
> 
> Si el te hace daño, voy a dejar que el Castillo haga su peor=If he hurts you, I'm going to let the Castle do its worst.


	5. A Flower for Your Path

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shiro arched his eyebrow into a mountain, mouth falling into a perfectly flat line, and Matt snickered at the familiar expression. He had seen it a thousand times on the way to Kerberos whenever Shiro told him about another episode of Keith’s shenanigans or Adam’s hobby of throwing his gayness in Iverson’s face at every opportunity.

“Oh, come on! Because no, she couldn’t just build one clone, _she had to have a whole facility of Shiros!_ ” Shrieked Lance, flinging both arms up as if that would carry his complaint screaming across the galaxies to Haggar. “What makes him so popular?!”

Shiro snickered, twisting in his seat to place a light kiss to Adam’s cheek.

“I don’t know. As long as I have this one, I’m awfully content with the popularity I’ve already got.”

“Mushy,” groaned Pidge, tongue flopping out of her mouth as she tried to roll her eyes off her face. “Let’s get back to cloning!”

“Where’s this facility?” Asked Keith, folding his arms and jerking his chin up. “We leave for Earth in five quintants, and we’re not doing any wormholes until then. If it’s out of our range, we’re not going anywhere.”

“Uh, first off, I totally agree with Keith,” commented Hunk, raising a finger in the air as he spoke. “But secondly, um, what have these clones been doing? Are they just sitting there? Like, are they a threat to us? No?”

“I—I don’t know,” admitted Kuron, scratching the back of his neck. “I only have the coordinates. Haggar put them in my head when she was taking control, but I don’t know what’s happened to the facility in the last three phoebs.”

Keith scowled, the purple fang on his cheek baring at Kuron, and Lance’s fingers wove between his own with a soft squeeze.

“Well, I say we move to the main council room!” Suggested Lance, locking his words into a steady rhythm, not giving them any time to tremble as Kuron’s knife-grey eyes crashed down onto him. “We’ve got the best map in there. You pull up your coordinates, we figure out the distance, and then Keith, the Generals, and I can decide if this is something we can investigate yet. Pidge, could you, Hunk, and Adam work on some fancy long-distance scanning system? If we have time to go all detective on them, we probably want to know what we’re charging into!”

Kuron’s eyebrows folded, lips tugging down at the edges, and Keith felt every inch of his skin flare like an enraged sun as the clone opened his mouth.

“But if—”

“Also!” Cut in Keith, eyes spitting venom at Kuron and his clutch on Lance’s hand grew into a vice grip. “Shiro and Matt, could you two look after Allura today? I think Coran’s going to scare himself out the window at this rate.”

“Yeah; Ez, think you’re up to hanging out with Coran?” Asked Lance, grinning at the General perched on her girlfriend’s shoulders.

“Only if—”

“Zethrid can go with you, yes,” interrupted Keith, glancing across the table and rolling his eyes in unison with Pidge. “Acxa, you and Admiral Krolia are with Lance and I; we need to decide what to do next as an alliance.”

Krolia inclined her head in silent agreement, and Acxa gave a sharp nod, eyes lingering on the chair where Allura usually joined them for breakfast.

“Narti,” added Lance, winking at the tall woman as a cheeky smile trembled across his lips, “you and Romelle are free for the day.”

Narti’s entire face glowed a blazing silver in response and Romelle’s pink marks sputtered out a blushing complaint as Lance’s smirk grew. Keith snickered.

Kuron blinked, gaze raking over the room as Adam whispered something to Pidge that sent the girl into a wave of chuckles, Hunk leaning in immediately to catch a hint of the tea. Shiro and Matt were already halfway out the door, Narti was stuttering something to Romelle while the other generals hovered over the exchange like a flock of hawks, and Krolia was pretending not to be listening in as well.

There were no questions, no hesitation, not even a flicker of doubt on the team’s faces. Keith and Lance had their heads bowed together, words flitting between the two like a secret language, Lance’s hand lingering on his partner’s shoulder and Keith’s eye roll, for the first time since the meeting had begun, tinged with fondness.

“We should go,” suggested Krolia, her bladed eyes boring into Kuron’s as he glanced over, and lips curled back to reveal the faintest trace of fangs. “We have much to do.”

“How are you feeling, Allura?” Asked Shiro, sinking into the edge of her bed and straightening the blanket idly. “Did you get enough sleep?”

Allura chuckled, accepting the tray of food Matt offered and drawing herself up against the pillowed headboard.

“Yes, I promise I did,” she replied, sipping from the bubbling orange liquid filling the cracked mug. “Coran made sure of that. Really, my recovery has been going quite smoothly. You all need not worry so.”

Shiro arched his eyebrow into a mountain, mouth falling into a perfectly flat line, and Matt snickered at the familiar expression. He had seen it a thousand times on the way to Kerberos whenever Shiro told him about another episode of Keith’s shenanigans or Adam’s hobby of throwing his gayness in Iverson’s face at every opportunity.

“Oh really?” Deadpanned Shiro, striding to the blanket chest leaning against one bejewelled wall and rifling through it as he spoke. “You literally just used up almost all of your quintessence punching your way through the cosmos,” Shiro held up his free hand, ticking the list off fingers as he continued trying to find a fluffy enough blanket, “piloted the Red Lion, which is known for being incredibly difficult to handle and fight with, helped to form the ultimate weapon in the universe, which then unlocked a new ability that let us all phase through an enemy battleship.”

Shiro shook his head, pulling out a fluff-lined pink blanket with sparkles sewn onto the outside and fixing Allura with a skeptical glower. “You all give me plenty of reason to worry; now eat your breakfast. Also, there’s no way you’re not freezing in that nightgown.”

Allura bit her lip, fighting back the giggles bubbling in her throat as she leaned forwards, spinning the janyil noodles around her fork and sighing as the soft blanket slipped over her shoulders.

“Keith and Lance were not joking,” she commented, smiling at her teammate as he refilled her maybe half-empty glass. “You are a superb Space Dad.”

Matt shrieked, laughter overflowing in a flood that bent him double as Shiro sputtered, eyebrows shooting up as if trying to meld into his hairline. Allura smirked, her crystal-blue eyes soft as they met Shiro’s. “You even remembered that I like to have something sparkly.”

Shiro’s eyebrow twitched, mouth a steady line as Matt continued to nearly choke on his giggles.

“Shiro,” he pointed out, wiping at his eyes as laughter shook his every word, “we already discussed this! You agreed with Adam that you two were fathers! Adam even called Keith a tiny gay baby, remember?”

Shiro grinned, shaking his head and sprawling in the chair across from Matt, hands folded in his lap.

“I’m not going to forget that anytime soon,” he replied, a chuckle rumbling through his chest and adding a glow to the room that settled over Allura more warmly than any blanket. “I mean, that’s kind of what Keith’s always been for us though. He’s like a younger brother we helped raise, you know?”

Matt shrugged, leaning forward in his chair and trying to tug food goo out of the ends of his mocha hair.

“Not really? I mean, I took care of Pidge whenever Dad was in the lab or Mom was on tour for her inventions, but we were both raised by them,” he replied. “She’s just my little sister.”

“Are we forming a team of older siblings?” Joked Allura, spinning more food into her mouth.

“Yes, to spill all the tea on the younger ones,” said Matt immediately, whipping a pad of paper and a floofy pen off Allura’s table. “I’ll keep track of blackmail material.”

Shiro snickered and Allura let her gaze linger on him, tracing each line of his smile as if it could erase the sneer of the clone in her mind. With a huff, she pulled herself into an upright position, curls brushed into a waterfall cascading over her shoulder as she faced the Blue Paladin, waiting for the room to fall into the pit of silence underlying any conversation. She was the Princess of Altea, Red Paladin, and sister of the Voltron family; she would wait as long as it took to do what her people needed.

Matt’s amber eyes darted to hers, flicking over the lowered eyebrows, the locked back and rolled shoulders, and skipping to her hands. Palms folded over one another, floating primly over the covers, for a princess must never risk staining her gloves if the surface beneath them is less clean than decorum mandated. Matt gulped down his next joke, allowing her gaze to swallow him up and waiting for Shiro to look.

“Allura?”

“Are you okay, Shiro?” Asked Allura, dropping the princess pose and resting one of her hands against the sparkling blanket tucked around her shoulders. “It is important to give Keith and Lan all of our support, of course, but we have currently a clone aboard the Castle of Lions who took your place for two phoebs. I cannot even begin to imagine what that is like, but I want you to know that, whatever you are feeling, you can confide in me.”

Allura leaned forward, plucking one of the pink, spotted flowers Hunk always added from her tray and offering it to Shiro. “You are part of our family, Shiro. We are all here for you, no matter what.”

“Big time,” agreed Matt, snatching another flower and tossing it into Shiro’s lap, drawing a snorting giggle from Allura. “Don’t do that stupid thing you always do where you decide someone else needs help so you don’t ask for it. Everyone is capable of helping others; there’s enough support to go around. Especially here,” he added, smile warming like melted chocolate on a s’more. “We love you, man. We’re here to help.”

Shiro sat perfectly still, eyes blown wide and mouth frozen as a mountain of words tumbled over one another, all trying to get out at once. He felt a throb run through his prosthetic arm, rippling up through his shoulder and nudging against his heart like a particularly curious puppy. Shiro had spent a decaphoeb fighting in arenas, sleeping in stone prisons, screaming as magic coursed over his body, and growing to appreciate darkness as the only constant in his life. He had swallowed down memories of sunlight, of color, of hugs and family, of anything that might drown him in regret. He had fled from the haunting sound of Keith’s laughter in his dreams, of Adam’s promises of love, of his mother’s cooing and fussing over how much he was eating. Shiro had gotten used to stamping down any happiness before it could be destroyed by the world around him.

Because, if Shiro hid it for long enough, the world would get tired of trying to shred it away from him.

Voltron had been a second chance, a safe haven in the middle of the war where Lance’s shining laughter chased away the chants of the arena, where Keith’s familiar touches erased the punches and kicks that he was used to fighting, and where Pidge’s blinding smirk behind her spectacles blew away the wailing face of Matt in his nightmares. It was where Hunk’s cooking stuffed his complacency with hunger out of him, where Allura’s perfumes drove out the thick scent of iron he was used to swallowing down, and where Coran’s codes refined the training deck to teach him to fight how he wanted to, not how the Galra wanted him to.

Voltron was Shiro’s second shot at life.

But, somehow, it had never settled in for him that Voltron was his home. They were his family.

Allura’s hand brushed his cheek as she nestled the flower behind his ear, pink filling in the edge of his vision and the silky petals nuzzling against his skin. She smiled tenderly, guiding his forehead to her lips in a fluttering, soft kiss.

“You are my family,” she reminded him. “If you need me, I am here.”

“Right on,” stated Matt, taking Shiro’s palm carefully in both hands and squeezing it like he was something to be protected, to be treasured. “You saved my life, Shiro. I’m always going to be by your side, okay?”

Shiro gulped, absorbing their words and turning them on the shadows always crowded in the back of his mind, blinding them with the force of a thousand suns. He didn’t have to hack them apart on his own anymore. He hadn’t needed to for a long time.

“I know,” promised Shiro, squeezing Matt’s hand and pecking Allura’s forehead and _how exactly could she stretch her body like that, there was no way that wasn’t painful—_ “Thank you, both of you. To be honest, though, my clone isn’t the weirdest visitor we’ve had on this ship.”

“What?!”

“Slav,” growled Shiro, and Allura stuffed her face into her hands to hide the cackling laughter rocking her shoulders.

Matt twisted his mouth to one side, eyes darting back and forth between his steaming older brother and snickering space sister, and just held his hands up.

“Yeah, I don’t want to know.”

“Good call,” gritted out Shiro while Allura managed to assent even in her flurry of giggles.

Matt just shook his head and shoved Shiro’s chair closer to Allura’s bed, plopping onto the armrest and glaring pointedly at Allura’s food. Shiro chuckled, throwing an arm over Allura’s shoulder and around Matt’s side, tugging the two flower lovers into a loose hug. “Thank you both. Next time I need help, I’ll call one of you guys, okay?”

Matt rolled his eyes, wrapping both arms around Shiro’s shoulders and squishing the older man.

“Or, you know, both of us?” He suggested. “Or anyone else on this Castle?”

“Perhaps I should repeat that to Adam?” Teased Allura, grinning as Shiro shuddered in her hug. “Or Keith? Shiro, we are all here for you. Honestly, if I told Lance, Hunk, Pidge, or Coran that you said that, they would be positively enraged. If you need help, any and all of us are here and willing.”

Shiro shook his head and let out a dramatic sigh taken straight (or, well, not really) from Lance’s book.

“Must you always threaten me to make me feel safe and loved?” He complained, tightening his hold on both of them and unable to shake the smile snug on his lips.

“Absolutely,” retorted Matt, jabbing Shiro’s cheek and grinning at him. “It’s the _bi_ esthetic.”

“Matt, please leave the aesthetic puns to Pidge,” said Allura with a sigh. “My apologies, but her _ace_ thetic is far better suited to such a feat.”

“Why you gotta wreak _pan_ demonium on my vibe?”

“Excuse you, I will have nothing to do with your world’s strange categories on love,” replied Allura with a flip of her hair. “I am the Princess of Altea, I make my own rules.”

Matt burst into a ringing peal of laughter, clinging to Shiro’s shoulders as he nearly tumbled off the chair and Allura pumped her fist in giggling triumph. Shiro snorted with laughter, holding them both close and letting the sheer joy wash over him in waves. He was home, he was with his family, and, for the first time in the last two decaphoebs, he wasn’t scared of the happiness that surged through him like liquid sunlight.

Because Shiro wasn’t the only one protecting it this time.

“Keith, amor, you’ve got your _I’m-an-angry-protective-kitty-roar_ face on,” said Lance, snickering as Keith tugged him down the hallway, finally free of the council room after three vargas of negotiations. “Are you going to tell me what’s going on, or should I go with my hunches again?”

“We lost power to the entire ship two quintants ago,” replied Keith shortly. “The fridge went down too; a lot of stuff went bad. I have a list, we’re going to the space mall.”

“Ooooooooh, like a date?” Teased Lance, catching up to his boyfriend and swinging their intertwined fingers as they walked, his marks glowing a faint blue.

The facility was definitely within flying distance, so Lance gave Pidge’s squad the green light to begin scanning it with their wire-stuck, creaking, ridged wave machine. Pidge had assured them cheerily, with her hair puffing everywhere in a singed explosion around her head, that it had only blown up five times, and that they were relatively small blasts. Lance just groaned and threw his arms towards the sky while Keith, noting a small flame still flickering on the back of her head, doused Pidge in a bucket of water. Adam had snorted and, adjusting his soot-streaked glasses, handed Pidge a hose.

So, yes, the meeting ran three vargas long. 

“Yes, like a date,” stated Keith. “Our first date is not going to be fighting a haunted Castle, you getting shot, and me somehow getting a tattoo on my face.”

“Aww, but you were so cute and vicious telling the _already super dead gladiator_ not to mess with your boyfriend~”

Keith scoffed, jabbing Lance in the ribs with his elbow and letting the waves of Lance’s laughter wash over him like a warm bath after a long day of flying. How had he gotten this lucky?

Lance’s grip around his fingers tightened, tugging him closer, and Keith nearly tripped as Lance pressed a kiss to the purple fang curving up his cheek. “Plus,” he whispered, smirking, “we all know you just wanted to catch up to me on alien markings.”

“As if!”

“Aww, no need to be embarrassed. We all know mine are adorbs, but yours is _pretty as heck!_ ”

Keith’s entire face went tomato red, transforming his ears into pure flames, and Lance’s mouth curled as he snickered at the blushing mess that was his _boyfriend—wow, he was still getting used to that one._

“You make a fair point,” muttered Keith. “Yours are adorable.”

_STILL GETTING USED TO THAT ONE_ , screeched Lance’s brain as his blue marks turned into twin flashlights. Keith ducked his head, steam rising from his ponytail and mixing with the smoke billowing from Lance’s curls as their heart rates screamed throughout the entire hall.

“GET A ROOM AND SPARE US YOUR FLIRTING!”

“ _PIDGE!_ ”

“You literally wanted us to get together, shut it!”

“I thought your pining would end when you got together!”

“Sucks to suck, Pidgey!” Shouted Lance, throwing an arm over Keith’s shoulders and yanking down his eyelid at the Green Paladin. “I’m going to keep on falling in love with Keith every day for the rest of my life, so you’d better get used to it!”

Keith sputtered, heat blasting through his face, and Lance froze as his own words started to register. Pidge rolled her eyes, smirking at the two’s blushed-out heads, and waltzed down the corridor with a jerking wave of the hand.

“Cute!”

“HUNK!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I own nothing!


	6. Race To Your Smile

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Best date idea _ever!_ ” Keith cheered, a familiar gleam sparking in his eyes that Lance hadn’t seen since he had driven them off a cliff on his hoverbike. “I’m going to knock you off the track, McClain!”

Look, in Lance’s defense, last he checked, _carousels were always stationary back on Earth!_ Hunk used to bring him, Nadia, and Sylvio along for his birthday trips to the amusement park, and Sylvio would always coo over the “pretty glittey ponies!” until he got to go three times. Plus, one of the memories Pidge had shown in her mind melds had consisted of her dumping soda over Matt’s head and sprinting to the nearest carousel for a (temporary) safety. So Lance was _pretty sure_ that carousels weren’t supposed to _hurl off the platform at top speed and declare a destination for them to race to! He was pretty sure that wasn’t how this was supposed to work!_

Keith whooped, flashing Lance a grin that outshone any “pretty glittey pony”, and revved the engine of what looked vaguely like a glistening black motorcycle with a sail rigged to one side and boosters thrumming beneath the metal. The gleaming monitor began its countdown.

“Best date idea _ever!_ ” Keith cheered, a familiar gleam sparking in his eyes that Lance hadn’t seen since he had driven them off a cliff on his hoverbike. “I’m going to knock you off the track, McClain!”

“Oh bring it, Kogane!” Shot back Lance, smirking as he slid one foot further back on the rippling surfboard-ish surface, fingers tightening around the flexible joystick embedded in the wood. “I’m going to wipe the floor with you!”

Well, maybe now Keith wouldn’t put up _as much_ of a fight when Lance suggested they do this again. And sure, it wasn’t as romantic as Lance had been planning, but…

The monitor ticked down and Keith leaned forward, smile nearly splitting his face and eyes glowing in the reflection off his headlight. It lit his long black hair, released from its ponytail for the day, with a molten-gold tinge and sent lightning crackling across his thick-framed glasses. Keith looked so fiercely _alive_ right then, like he knew exactly who he was born to be, and Lance’s heart went into full bloom at the wink his boyfriend sent his way.

The monitor blared for the race to begin, and Lance slammed the joystick forwards, flipping over three other competitors and tearing ahead with a crow of laughter. Sure, it wasn’t as romantic as Lance had been planning, but this was _Keith_. Anything with him felt romantic.

“Keep up, Lance!” Yelled Keith, whipping past the taller boy and throwing a crooked grin over his shoulder.

Also, that meant Lance had _even less_ reservations about _destroying_ his boyfriend in this race and whooping it up later.

“Don’t think you can hold onto that lead forever, my man!” Replied Lance, snickering as his eyes danced over the massive room, digging into the edges of the track for water horses and skittering across the snack bar. “I’ll see ya at the finish line!”

And, with that, Lance punched the button atop the joystick and launched backwards into the air. Keith raised an eyebrow, slamming his foot onto the gas and tearing down the track towards the glowing blue circle across the room that served as their destination. He had no clue what Lance was doing (what else was new?) but this was _Lance_. No way Keith was giving this anything other than one hundred percent.

Lance smirked as Keith ripped towards the destination, dropping his center of weight, and he cut the power to his engines. The surfboard plummeted down like a stone, and Lance snagged the edges of the craft as a smile tore across his face. This was going to be fun.

Keith flew around the tables crowding the snack bar, weaving beneath some sort of _roller-coaster-looking-track-thing_ and blasting ahead of the other contestants. His shoulders were hunched low, the air streaming through his hair, and he threw back his head with a peal of laughter, letting the wind rush over his cheeks like a breath of freedom. His pulse roared in his ears, his grip tight around the handles, and a smile consuming his face as he shot towards the finish circle.

Lance slammed onto the center of the water horses’ track, ricocheting onto the edge and whooping as he streaked down the curving metal, the engines blasting to life behind him once more. The joystick lay untouched as years of surfing pumped through Lance’s muscles, the board screeching against the metal as Lance whipped around turns, half his body hanging off the track and curls flying in the wind. Dimples pressed into his cheeks when he whizzed past the snack bar, the faintest tinge of salt slipping into the air and throwing his heart back into the familiar beat of home.

And, when he flicked the switch for the turbo engines (which let out a roar that could rival Black’s _and nearly deafened him, thank you_ ), Keith threw his violet gaze up at his partner and Lance’s heart kept up its steady pattern. Home wasn’t just that house by Varadero Beach anymore.

Keith let out a bark of laughter as Lance rocketed in front of him, kicking up the boosters on his own bike and throttling it after his boyfriend. Because of course he had used what was _basically a thinner version of a roller coaster track_ to zip ahead of Keith, hair streaking back in the wind and grin glowing across his face like a racing angel of reckless brilliance. Lance threw a wink back at Keith, flinging himself through a loop so fast Keith’s heart didn’t even have time to climb into his throat, and blasting off the edge of the metal in front of his partner’s bike.

“Just try to knock me off the track now, Kogane!” Yelled Lance, smile bursting at the edges of his cheeks and lighting up his Altean marks in a pair of fiery-blue beams. “It’ll make me even faster, Mullethead!”

“Then let’s see your fancy flying win against my speed!” Replied Keith, gunning it towards the finish circle as Lance threw the joystick forward.

“You’re on!”

Keith surged ahead, Lance flashing to his side a tick later, and an old memory stirred in the back of his mind.

The finish circle pulsed, indicating that they were in the home stretch. Lance stole a peek over, his own grin growing impossibly wider at the dimples framing Keith’s smile. Keith glanced over, ears blossoming red at his boyfriend’s gleaming eyes, the blue overflowing with effervescence in the light reflecting off his Altean markings.

Keith felt his heart explode in his chest.

The circle pulsed twice.

_You know, Lance and Keith, neck and neck!_

The finish circle glowed a popping purple as Keith and Lance sped through at the same time, a display flashing their identical times, and the two skidded to a stop.

Lance raised an eyebrow at the display.

Keith wrinkled his nose.

“So, who gets bragging rights?”

“Whoever convinces Pidge we didn’t do that on purpose?”

“Got it, neither of us.”

Lance snickered, hopping off his surfboard-esque-thing and waltzing over to the dashboard nearby.

“Think they take pictures here, like on Earth?” He asked, casting a grin over his shoulder as he waved Keith over. “I so want to see this!”

Keith dismounted, sliding the bike to the side and yanking Lance’s board away from a finishing chariot before the racers could accidentally crush it. Lance may be able to strike a “sweet bargain” but there was _no way_ Keith was explaining that particular expense to Allura. He didn’t really want to sweat to death through whatever next demonic training exercise she developed to teach them all “better awareness of their surroundings” like when Hunk made the mistake of stepping on her book.

“Aha!” Cheered Lance, clicking in a couple of commands and beaming back at his partner. “Keith, come over here! I got it to print!”

Lance tugged a piece of paper out of the device, tossing in a few gac and shaking out the small square. Those things were _cold, geez_! Honestly, he should consider getting a pair of gloves in case they hit another ice planet or something like that. Plus, maybe he could get some actually sensible ones for his boyfriend. Cool or not, those fingerless gloves were in no way worth their money!

“What’s up, Lance?” Called Keith, jogging to his side and peering over his shoulder at the photograph. “I can’t believe you actually managed to make it work.”

“S’not that different than ‘Lura’s,” explained Lance, cracking his shoulders and flourishing the picture into the light. “Now, let’s see what we’ve got here!”

The two of them blinked at the photo, shuffling aside to let the rest of the racers get to the dashboard, and the edge of Lance’s lips twisted as if he was trying to hide his giggles with a scowl.

“Welp, you’re definitely right!”

“Huh?”

Lance jabbed his finger towards the photograph. The finish ring had speckled their hair and cheeks with purple, Keith twisting his head to the side and smirking at Lance as they tore through the circle, and Lance was looking down from his perch aboard the surfboard, a laugh bubbling on his lips. Their eyes were locked, the soft blue Altean light in Lance’s eyes drowned by the reflecting purple in Keith’s eyes, which were glowing the warmest blue as if in response. Their hands were brushing, their matching necklaces swinging together in a silent kiss.

“We are never going to convince Pidge we didn’t do that on purpose!”

“So no bragging rights?”

“I mean, you look cute as quiznak in this photo, so I’m going to say I get bragging rights because I landed you,” decided Lance, dropping a kiss on Keith’s nose and pulling out his wallet to store the picture.

Keith’s brain flashed him the peace sign and promptly melted.

“You did not _seriously_ ask a _demon of the fear realm_ if it was going to throw water balloons at you!” Cried Keith, spitting half a mouthful of lasbery smoothie back into its cup in an attempt not to choke on both that _and_ his laughter. “Lance!”

Lance snickered, popping an orange, speckled dome of something called _hashji_ into his mouth.

“It threw him soooooooo off-guard!” He snorted, prodding the cone full of food suspiciously as his lips spasmed. “He went from _I-am-a-terrifying-shadow-of-death-fear-me_ to _please-let-me-out-of-here_ real quick!”

Keith didn’t bother fighting the grin spreading over his lips, squeezing Lance’s hand gently as the taller boy swung their arms between them. The cuffs of Lance’s jacket brushed against Keith’s wrist, the two boys automatically falling into stride as they passed a window jam-packed with things that looked vaguely like hand fans with glowing spikes littering the material. Keith got the distinct feeling Allura would adore that.

Lance tossed the cone still half-full with orange domes into a nearby trash can, screwing up his nose in response to Keith’s raised eyebrows.

“Pidge’s Deathtrometer doesn’t exactly scan taste,” he grumbled, taking a swig from Keith’s smoothie and swishing it in his cheeks like an indecisive squirrel.

Keith rolled his eyes fondly and pressed a kiss to the pudgy cheek as the smoothie filled up one side of it. When Hunk had told him (while he was hiding from Pidge and her hose in the kitchen) that there was a problem with the fridge and they needed to stock up on food for the next few quintants, Keith had originally replied that he would ask Matt to take Pidge. She _clearly_ needed a break from that lab, and Keith knew Lance well enough to notice when Matt was getting a little stir-crazy. Hunk just hip-bumped him and suggested he take Lance instead because _the shopping would have to be at a space mall, you know, perfect for a date~_

What Lance most certainly _did not_ need to know was that Hunk suggested that a good half varga before Keith actually dragged Lance free of the meeting.

Also, Black was still grumpy about being forced to wait in the hangars.

“So, did Hunkers give you a shopping list or something?” Asked Lance, finally swallowing the mouthful of smoothie as if his Altean marks weren’t burning a shining blue that could easily match any ocean. “I mean, if it’s fridge stuff, we should probably wait until the date’s over to grab it? Because I am _not_ carrying around space yogurt and smelling it go bad!”

Keith shrugged, pulling the crumpled sheet of paper from his pocket and flicking at it to uncrease the folds.

“I mean, since it’d go bad, we should probably get it at the end,” he agreed, turning to Lance. “But maybe there’s some stuff here that’s for pantry?”

Lance’s eyes skimmed over the paper, the edge of his mouth tugging up into a smirk even before the first giggle snuck out. Keith steered the two of them around a small gaggle of aliens squawking over some stone one of them was clutching, gaze fixed ahead, and Lance’s sniggers increased beside him.

“We’ve been pranked,” replied Lance, nudging Keith’s shoulder and gesturing to the list. “It’s blank. Hunk just set us up on a date. I bet he fixed the fridge before anything went wrong with the food. Actually, how do expiration dates work out here?”

Keith’s eyes cut back to the paper as Lance began full-out laughing, stealing Keith’s smoothie so he could clutch at the empty list with both hands. He snapped it flat a couple of times, checking the back as Lance snorted beside him, and crouched to push it around in the basin of a nearby fountain in case letters would emerge from the page.

“Did we seriously just get set up on our first date?” Complained Keith as he dropped onto the stones encircling the basin, raising his eyes to look at Lance.

Lance shrugged as he continued filming and draining Keith’s smoothie.

“To be fair, I don’t think he would have gotten both Black Paladins on a date out of the Castle any other way.”

“But it’s our first one!”

Lance pocketed his phone, smile curling up into his eyes and Altean marks flickering to life as he offered the smoothie to Keith. The shorter boy popped the straw into his mouth, making no move to take the slick drink from Lance yet, and his boyfriend giggled at the pouty dip near the front of his eyebrows.

“It’s not really,” soothed Lance, plopping down beside his boyfriend and lacing their fingers again. “And fine, neither is the haunted castle one. I was just messing with you.”

“That wasn’t a date _at all—_ ”

“Hush, our first date was in the proposal room,” interrupted Lance gently. “It was us building a blanket fortress and listening to love songs and cutting each other’s hair. It was when you told me you loved me. When I said you were my future.”

He could feel the blue glow playing on his cheeks, fingers tapping out the chorus of the song they had confessed to each other on. “When we were _so convinced_ we were going to say the same thing and then we _didn’t—_ ”

“ _We’re_ the future,” cut in Keith, eyebrows smoothing and free hand relieving Lance of the sweaty drink. “But that doesn’t count; we weren’t dating when we did all that!”

“I mean……we basically were,” replied Lance, laughter playing on the edges of his words. “But I knew what I was doing when I asked you to come into the proposal room with me. And you knew what you were doing when you said yes.” He paused, eyes flickering down to rest on Keith’s. “Right?”

“Yeah,” promised Keith, sliding their hands into his lap. “I knew what it meant. Well, I hoped I did.”

“We both treated it as a date. So, in the eyes of the great Loveryboy Lance,” declared Lance, sweeping his free hand into the air, “that was our first date!”

He grinned, bumping his shoulder against Keith’s as his hand dropped, a now-familiar sparkle gleaming in his eyes. “Pretty nice one, huh?”

Keith blew out slow, condensed breath, tightening the corners of his lips as if he was still playing that stupid, high-pitched flute Shiro had given him for his twelfth birthday so long ago. Because of course he wanted Lance’s first date with him to be amazing; he wanted it to be perfect. Not a death match with gladiators and drones that nearly cost Lance everything. Not a mall shopping visit set up by their family. He wanted it to be something Lance could brag to their children about, something this boy who seemed to hold pure love in his eyes could use to inspire himself when the universe was trying to crush everything that made him beautiful, something he and Keith could reminisce about with those silly, fond smiles that Shiro and Adam wore when they spoke of their first meeting.

Lance deserved a perfect love story. But Keith didn’t know how to give that to him. Lance was his first boyfriend, his first date. He was Keith’s first crush and his last love, and Keith was more than willing to slice through space and time to bring him happiness. _But how the quiznak was he supposed to do that?!_

Sure, Shiro had always made sure there were flowers in the kitchen because he knew Adam loved the pop of color it brought to their pale-yellow apartment, and Adam made breakfast for Shiro every morning no matter how busy he was because it reminded Shiro of his mom. The two always called each other when they were on business trips, Shiro read aloud to Adam every night for a week when the Lebanese man broke his glasses, and Adam wrote him a poem for their three-year-anniversary. They had fought to reach their dreams together, gotten engaged even when Shiro knew how severe his supposed illness was, and flown across galaxies to be together again.

This didn’t do much to help Keith. There weren’t exactly an abundance of places to get Lance flowers, and why the quiznak would he cook when Hunk would do it much more happily and more edibly? Business trips happened together now, since they were in a quadrant of fully allied planets for the moment, Keith’s glasses and Lance’s vision were fine, and Keith was _not writing poetry_. Plus, Keith was not proposing yet.

Lance deserved a fairy tale. The part that sucked was that Keith couldn’t stab that into existence.

Lance let out a peal of tinkling laughter, swept Keith’s hand into his own, and pulled him off the water fountain. He pressed his lips to the tip of Keith’s nose in a kiss gentle as a raindrop sliding down a petal.

“We had a great first date,” insisted Lance, raising their intertwined hands to drop another kiss against Keith’s knuckles. “And I’m really enjoying our third. Hunk setting us up because we’re busy is pretty adorable, you know?”

Lance shrugged easily, draining the last of Keith’s smoothie and, in a single fluid movement, tossed the empty cup into the garbage can behind them and flicked Keith’s forehead. “So knock it off with the stress lines, would you?! I mean, come on, basic skincare, man!”

Keith scowled, jabbing Lance’s jacket-covered stomach with his finger just shy of the zipper line. Lance let out a wheeze of something that was probably meant to be indignation and betrayed him at the last tick, leaving him doubled over laughing and clutching his stomach as tears pricked his eyes.

Keith’s fingers brushed against his cheek, holding Lance steady as he bent to place a kiss atop the brown springing curls.

“Thank you,” he murmured.

“Pffft, happy to help with your skin anytime, my main mullet!” Teased Lance, covering Keith’s hand with his own and leaning into the touch. “Te amo, mi amor.”

“Yo tambien te amor,” tried Keith, biting his lip as soon as the words were out of his mouth.

Lance giggled.

“Not quite, but close enough.”

“ _No!_ ” Snapped Keith, tilting Lance’s head up so their eyes locked, a purple shimmer burning with violet consuming the ocean-eyed boy’s heart in a beat. “I don’t want you to have to settle. Tell me how to say it. This is your language, Lance. I want to do this right.”

Lance blinked, a lump coiling against the back of his throat and burning through the skin. _Answer him!_ Screamed his brain. Helpful, for once.

“Yo también te amo,” said Lance softly. “Or, te amo también. Your pick.”

“Te amo también,” stated Keith. “Te amo tanto.”

Lance’s jaw dropped, a stream of indecipherable squeaking flooding from his mouth, eyes blown wide open and touch feathery-light against Keith’s arms. Whoa, that was _beyond_ worth Black’s roasting on his pronunciation.

Maybe Keith wasn’t doing too badly at this.

“DID YOU JUST—?!”

“¿Sí?”

“KEITH!” Lance shrieked, burying his face in his hands like that would hide the blue floodlights pouring from his cheeks.

It didn’t; the glow just lit up his fingertips too. “You can’t just do that without warning!”

Keith laughed, the joy shaking through his chest and dislodging the cold lump of fear freezing over his heart. Because, to Lance, he was enough. The fairy tale he had to offer Lance was enough.

“Te amo tanto.”

“I get it, I get it! Yo también te amo, now stooooooooooooooooop!”

“No.”

“ _Keith!_ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I own nothing!
> 
> Te amo también=I love you too  
> Te amo tanto=I love you so much  
> ¿Sí?=Yes?


	7. Fireworks

“How did you know they had a garden in here?” Asked Lance, shimmying in between his boyfriend and coiling tower of shimmering vines that looked almost like a telephone pole in the evening dusk. “I totally thought it was a theatre with that sign up front!”

“I called ahead of time,” murmured Keith, casting his gaze across the ground; they said they finished preparing ten dobashes ago, so where was it?

“What? Why?”

Lance swung back to Keith’s side, picking a stray leaf out of his curls and brushing another free of the long, black hair. “Are you planning something, Mullet?”

“If I was, we would have found it by now,” grumbled Keith, his narrowed eyes darting along the floor.

Lance snorted, squeezing Keith’s hand and pressing his shoulder against the soft, pink fabric of Keith’s jacket. Keith relaxed his muscles around the circle of warmth blooming across his arm, and Lance’s eyes darted to his face even as Keith kept his own on the ground.

“Are you looking for somethi—”

“AHA!” Shrieked Keith, grin lighting up across his face as he pushed Lance forwards. “Uh, no, I’m not. You see anything?”

“Keith, what are you—”

Lance’s voice vanished, sucked from his body as his suddenly illuminated eyes fell on the trail of petals stretching through the garden. Red coiled ones sprinkled along the ground, sprawling blue petals that curved upwards at every chance dotted the path, and purple ones that seemed to transition between indigo and violet with every blink of the eye were spread like trail. Each petal was pooled with lantern light, shimmering in the glow of floating fire cubes stretching along a hill up towards a pond.

Lance spun, eyes locking on Keith’s as he stuttered through three different wordings of his confusion. Keith checked the time and smirked.

“We should probably keep moving, starshine,” he suggested, swallowing the roller coaster in his stomach; he wasn’t going to let that control this night. “The fireworks show starts in half a varga, and it’s a long climb to the top of that hill. Plus, our picnic might get cold.”

“Wha—how—you—Are we even in the space mall anymore?!”

“Well, this is one of their ways to the roof, so……for now?”

“I can’t believe!”

Keith snickered, holding out his hand as Lance took an axe to the metal track of fear coiling inside of him. He wasn’t doing badly at all.

“What do you say, Lance?”

“Uh, I say that A: You’re insane, _how did I land you?_ And B: Duh I’m saying yes!”

Lance snagged Keith’s hand, tugging him along the petal path with light, dancer’s steps as his eyes _finally_ went into full sunshine mode. Keith hoped that would be his answer when, someday, he asked this boy to spend the rest of his life with him.

Not yet. But someday.

“Lance?”

Keith’s voice cut across the haze of the bright night, mist curling away from the floating lanterns around them until Lance could almost believe they were enveloped in an ocean cave. The night sky was lit up with stars, constellations he was still learning sprinkled across the black void they had flown through, saved, and come to regard as their home. Space wasn’t a void at all, science be squashed (as the Castle of Lions was happy to do). Space was the tie connecting Lance to everyone he had saved, to all his friends, to his family, to his loved ones waiting back on Earth for him. Space was everything Lance had ever wanted and loved, so he found it perfectly fitting to see his universe reflected in Keith’s upturned, crinkling eyes.

“Yeah?” Managed Lance, cramming his hand into the bag of snacks Keith had snuck from the Castleship’s kitchen as if that could stuff the bi thoughts back down before they strangled his voice. “What’s up?”

Keith’s teeth caught on his lip, irises flitting away under Lance’s stare, and his fingers tightened around his partner’s. His shoulders were arched like a cat’s, and it took over a decaphoeb of time fighting in space to keep Lance from doing anything more than squeezing Keith’s hand in return. He knew Keith. Sudden movement? The guy was at your throat with a knife in less than a tick, sometimes literally. “You good, my man?”

Keith fiddled with the edge of the embroidered Altean blanket beneath them. Actually, now that Lance though about it, he was about 99% sure he had seen this exact one in Allura’s room a couple of quintants ag—

“Are you okay?”

The words jerked out of Keith’s mouth, like a cork popping off a bottle, and magnetic purple eyes turned to peer tenderly into Lance’s. “And if you lie to me, I’ll dump that entire bag of asteryis over your head!”

Okay, so only _somewhat_ tenderly. Keith’s mouth screwed into a knot, eyebrows descending like a thundercloud across his forehead, and Lance barely managed to gulp down his desire to coo at the concern shining in every gesture on his boyfriend’s face. “Just talk to me, Lance.”

“I mean, that’s my thing,” replied Lance, poking Keith’s cheek and grinning as it squished under his touch. “I’m pretty good at talking.”

“More like talking circles around your problems,” muttered Keith. “Lance, don’t act like you weren’t scared. Please.”

“Of course I was scared!” Snapped Lance, sweeping the hair back from Keith’s forehead. “But that doesn’t matter anymore!”

“Why?!”

“Because it’s okay now! Because _I’m_ okay now!” Insisted Lance, cradling Keith’s face and pressing their foreheads together. “I’m more worried about our resident Captain Mullet and his grumpy cat face right now!”

“Stop that!” Snarled Keith, gripping Lance’s wrist and sliding his thumb over the pulse point. “You’re deflecting again!”

“So what?”

Lance smiled as Keith’s eyes begin to glow in the dark, nuzzling against his forehead despite the rage glistening in the lines of Keith’s scowl. “You guys were there for me. I…I am actually okay now. I promise. Because, no matter what happens, I won’t be alone this time. I’m going to have you all with me.”

“Forever,” swore Keith, cradling Lance’s cheek in return. “I’m not going anywhere, Lance.”

A smile tugged at the corner of Lance’s mouth as images danced through his mind, tapping across the floor with beaming smiles and flashing winks. Keith handing his Blade suit to Azve. The way his fingers had held perfectly still, not even a trace of the familiar twitch toward his knife that Lance had become accustomed to over phoebs of living with Keith, as he stated that Kolivan could give his room to someone else. The tears that had blinded Lance because _things were different now._ Because _Keith was staying this time. Because **Lance was finally enough to be there for Keith.**_ Everything after that had been a blind rush of boiling joy.

“I’m not either,” promised Lance, pressing a kiss to Keith’s cheek. “We’re in this together. You’ve got my back and I’ve got yours.”

“Always.”

Keith’s throat bobbed, the faintest scrape of his swallow echoing in Lance’s ears, and a faint breeze rustled the trees and sent the lanterns sputtering. Lance didn’t flinch.

“So what’s going on inside your head, Mullet?” He asked gently, stroking his knuckle over the mark and locking their gazes. “He hurt you too, Keith. Why aren’t you asking for any support?”

“No need,” snorted Keith, a familiar smirk curving across his lips as he leaned into the touch. “Shiro hasn’t let him within a foot of me since he came out of cryofreeze. I’m pretty sure Adam’s doing the same thing for you.”

Lance snickered even as he rolled his eyes, hoping the exaggerated range of the gesture would hide the clenching of his throat.

“You’re all being overprotective,” he teased. “I already told him off; I don’t think he’s going to mess with me. And if he does, I mean, I make a pretty dashing knight in shining armor, you know?”

He wasn’t useless. He wasn’t less than enough. He wasn’t a dead weight. He wasn’t unworthy. It was a chant Lance had developed for himself, one he had been adding to ever since Kuron returned. He didn’t need to be babysat. Keith shrugged, stealing some of the food from Lance’s bag and popping a fistful of the hard purple hexagons into his mouth.

“I do know,” he stated bluntly. “But we all do. You don’t have to be your only hero anymore, Lance. You already showed us exactly what you’re capable of. That doesn’t mean we aren’t going to take care of you.”

_“Nadia, I won’t be mad,” promised Lance, picking burrs out of his pseudo-daughter’s dress as she stood with folded arms and a jutted lip, head twisted to the side as if the questions would vanish if she ignored them for long enough. “Just please tell me what happened.”_

_“No!” Snapped Nadia. “I can take care of myself! Let me handle this on my own!”_

_Lance pursed his lips, plucking a crumpled leaf from Nadia’s hair and slowly brushing the small girl’s bangs away from her face. He had just had a similar conversation with his mother earlier, trying to convince her that he could bike down to the grocery store on his own if she needed to take an extra-long shift sequence again, insisting that he was grown-up enough to handle the task. Insisting that he could do it himself, he was old enough to pull off whatever he needed to._

_“I never said you couldn’t,” murmured Lance, jerking at a cluster of burrs until they released their spiky grasp on the hem of Nadia’s skirt. “But I can’t help you if I don’t know what’s going on.”_

_“I don’t want help!”_

_Lance grinned, booping Nadia’s nose and watching it scrunch with a giggle bouncing around inside his throat._

_“None of us do, my little princess,” he replied. “But remember yesterday, when I asked you to get that cup out of the dishwasher for Sylvio?”_

_Nadia tilted her head, eyes darting back to her uncle’s face, and Lance mimicked her gesture, mindlessly pulling thorns from the bright yellow dress._

_“Yeah?”_

_“It’s like that,” stated Lance, turning his attention back to the thorn-laced dress. “Whether you need help in that moment or not, asking for it means you have a guarantee of support if you end up needing it.”_

“Hey, Lance?”

Lance jerked back to the present, Keith’s frame still shuddering from his gulps as the petals rustled beneath their feet, tightening his hold around Lance’s hand. It wasn’t something he should be stressed about; he knew that theoretically.

“When we get back to Earth,” he managed, turning so those lightning-blue eyes could blaze through the air, cutting through the layers of _what if_ s and _I can’t_ s, slicing beyond all that to the core of _I have to_.

The impossible felt so simple when Keith was looking into Lance’s eyes. “I’m going to come out to Shiro’s mom. Uh, I assume you’re not out, so should I tell her you’re my friend?”

And Lance knew that look in his partner’s eyes. The one that whispered that Keith wasn’t good enough or strong enough or smart enough, which did _nothing_ to help his boyfriend’s nerves! Especially because Keith would be staring at it logically, trying to pinpoint moments of danger, the people he could relax with, the ones he needed to be scared about with coming out. And, sure, according to family legend, Mrs. Shirogane had been over the moon when Shiro announced his engagement to Adam, but……well, Lance knew Keith didn’t see himself as her child. And no one was more acutely aware that parents had no reason to keep loving children if they had silent qualms about the community than Lance.

And Mrs. Shirogane was the closest thing Keith had ever had to a real mother.

Lance swallowed. He shifted his toes, nudging some petals aside, and shifted his head to let the wind bounce through his curls. Coming out.

He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t thought about it. Going back to Earth, being swept into his mother’s arms, holding his little royals closer to him than he’d ever thought possible, and leading Keith over to meet his family with a confident smile and _This is Keith, he’s my boyfriend._

And, quietly, to Nadia and Sylvio and maybe his mother later, he would whisper _Keith’s my soulmate_. He knew a thing or two about soul bonds after being bound to Allura, after all. And he knew what his feelings meant, regardless of the tiny voice in his head screaming at him that he was _wrong wrong wrong, so wrong, this’ll just hurt, you’re going to lose him—_

And Lance chose Keith anyway. Because he loved him enough to take that risk, to be brave for him, to give _them_ a chance. To keep trying.

But this was a different ballpark. Right now, if Lance was going to do this, it couldn’t be for Keith. Because if this went wrong, if it turned on its head and none of his family ever wanted to lay eyes on him again, that couldn’t be on Keith’s head. Keith blamed himself for anything and everything; Lance wouldn’t let this go on that list too.

Lance swallowed.

“Keith,” he breathed, clinging to his boyfriend’s hands like his life depended on it, “are you serious right now?”

“Uh, yes?” Replied Keith, eyebrows knitting together and fingers curling around Lance’s, the corners of his lips pursing. “I’m not going to force you to come out, Lance. I would never do that to anyone.”

_Not like it was done to me._ The silent words echo through the night, shattering the screaming looping through Lance’s mind and burning his breath beyond oblivion. This was all Lance’s choice. Keith just needed to know how to support that choice.

He blinked.

It was like the spell locking him down shattered; his entire expression lit up like the fireworks show had started even though they had a solid five dobashes until it began. Lance bounced forward, trapping their intertwined hands between his and Keith’s chests as their noses brushed and his dimples flourished against his cheeks once more.

“You won’t have to,” he promised, breathless as if the joy radiating off of him had taken away half of his vocal cords. “I’m also going to tell my family when we get back. All of them.”  
Keith’s jaw tensed, nudging his glasses against his nose, and Lance pulled the rims down gently; his boyfriend hated it when the glass brushed against his eyelashes.

“But Veronica could decide she doesn’t want you watching Nadia and Sylvio!” Protested Keith, eyes glistening twice-over behind his lenses. “Isn’t that why you never told anyone?”

“Yeah, but that just means I fight until she changes her mind,” stated Lance, shrugging with all the strength he could grasp from his hand locked in Keith’s. “They’re my kids, at the end of the day; no way I’m letting them go again. But I want them to see me being out and being proud…I want them to see that their papi can do that.”

Keith nodded, bumping their foreheads together and giving them just a tick to rest. Just a single, tiny tick in the grand scale of the nearly fourteen phoebs they had spent away from home.

“I, uh, I wanted to tell you that…” Keith swallowed, and Lance smiled softly as the stars reflected across his boyfriend’s cheeks, the fizzy water forgotten between them. “You’re the reason I can do this, Lance. Because, well, you didn’t just tell me that everyone had my back. You _showed_ me. Time and time again. So I know—”

“Even if they leave us, that we’ll still have a space family who loves us unconditionally?” Guessed Lance, a smile quirking across his lips as Keith huffed.

“Your hunches, I swear.”

“Nope, not this time,” chirped Lance. “I just…I get it. That’s why I can come out too. I didn’t really think that anyone would stand by me if things went wrong; I would just be the annoying one, you know? But, with the migraine and now with the whole clone fiasco…you showed me that, when everything’s going to quiznak, I’m going to have you guys no matter what. That you guys see me as family too. And you love me. I wouldn’t be able to do this if I didn’t know I have a family who are willing to fight for me.”

Keith swallowed roughly, biting the inside of his cheek as tears welled up in the base of his eyes. His heart was glowing, he was positive. It was glowing a bright, sunrise red and Lance could see it and it was crushing his ability to breathe or think and _how the quiznak could he possibly top that, how could he express that he had two universes to protect because Lance was one of them, because Lance was everything he loved and thought he could never have—_

“Can I kiss you?” Whispered Keith.

_NOT LIKE THAT!_ Screeched his brain.

Lance apparently disagreed.

“Absolutely,” he breathed.

And as the first firework exploded into a shower of hearts overhead, Keith cradled the side of Lance’s face and, Lance’s arms steadying his shoulders, the two boys fell into their first proper kiss. Keith knew that, when he told Pidge that it felt like fireworks, she would insist that it was the spray of fire lighting up the sky behind them.

But he also knew that Lance would tut, pull Keith into his arms, and say that their kiss outshone any of the fireworks on display that night. And Keith knew that Lance would be right. Because this was something they would make together; this was _their_ fairy tale romance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I own nothing!


	8. Galra

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kuron wasn’t sure why he had flower clips in his bangs, but Hunk was puttering about the kitchen and humming like this was normal, Pidge was maniacally attacking her computer keys, and Coran was spinning a ladle between his fingers while scooping heaps of it onto a plate for Allura. So, situation normal. Aside from the, uh, well, _the flower clips._

Kuron wasn’t sure why he had flower clips in his bangs, but Hunk was puttering about the kitchen and humming like this was normal, Pidge was maniacally attacking her computer keys, and Coran was spinning a ladle between his fingers while scooping heaps of it onto a plate for Allura. So, situation normal. Aside from the, uh, well, _the flower clips._

“You should totally grow your hair out!” Crowed Ezor, her stomach flat across the table as she tugged strands from the tuft of his hair into a braid. “And, dude, condition it once in a while! You were in cryofreeze too, so you can’t pretend this is because you were sleeping for ages! This is grease paradise and it should _not_ be!”

“Ez, cut him some slack; his hide-out spots probably weren’t space malls,” pointed out Narti from where she sat with Romelle on her lap, braiding the thick blonde strands with gentle, deft movements. “I doubt he has had much opportunity to focus on his hair care.”

“I haven’t,” replied Kuron, eyebrow arching. “And I’m surprised any of you have. The war is still going on, but I haven’t seen anyone acting like it.”

“A lot’s happened in the last three phoebs,” shot back Pidge, never looking up from her assault on the keyboard. “But, basically, we’re all just waiting for Allura to recover right now. We’ll start working again once she’s okay.”

“What happened to her?” Asked Kuron, trying to twist around and look at the younger girl, but Ezor jerked at his bangs with a pout and he remained where he sat. “Is she in a cryopod?”

“The Princess exhausted herself on the last mission,” replied Coran, mustache twitching as if to hide the tight line of his lips. “She is currently resting in her room, and shall be until her quintessence has been fully replenished, which will likely be in three to four more quintants. She has always been exceptionally quick to heal.”

“Which just makes her more reckless,” grumbled Pidge. “She’s worse than Keith or Lance!”

“Well, she _is_ the Red Paladin!” Chirped Hunk, spinning the knife in his grip to carve a flower pattern into the giant red vegetable dwarfing his cutting board. “And you’re not exactly one to talk, Pidge, given that you play with explosives in your free time.”

Pidge shrugged, smirking and returning to her computer attack.

“Gotta keep up with my brand.”

Hunk rolled his eyes and continued slitting the vegetable open, pulling out orange seeds the size of his fist even as he addressed Kuron.

“But yeah, we don’t exactly have a lot of work to do right now. It’s gonna get pretty hectic later on, though. Lance is already making plans for the battle against the vanguard in Earth’s atmosphere with General Acxa, Romelle, and Allura, but they need to take breaks so Allura can rest. Keith’s working with Admiral Krolia and Zethrid too; there’s a lot more going on behind the scenes than you think. As usual.”

The last two words were enunciated very carefully, Hunk twisting to bore brown eyes straight through Kuron as his knife ripped through to the wood of the cutting board. He turned to face Kuron head-on then, scowling as he leaned forwards and set the knife down on the table behind him silently. “Lance has always taken being a paladin seriously. He knows how hyperfocused Pidge can get and how bad my anxiety is.”

Pidge’s amber eyes darted to her comrade, and she popped the straw of the nutrient water pack into her mouth. Lance had thrown it at her head earlier. Hunk’s throat burned, his fingers curling at his side.

“He knows Allura and Keith would gladly work themselves to exhaustion and then keep on going, and he knew you were the same way! Lance, out of everyone on this ship, is the only one who’s always understood limits.”

“Except his own,” grumbled Pidge, the half-drained pack of water bobbing up and down with the straw clenched between her teeth. “The cryopods have memorized his anatomy because he’s been in them that much.”

“Exactly,” stated Hunk, glowering at Kuron like he could vaporize the clone with just his glare. “Except his own. So you need to stop assuming that if you don’t see him working, he’s slacking. Because he’s not. He never has.”

Kuron blinked, lips curving open to protest, and Hunk felt his scowl deepening like someone had just emptied an entire ocean into it. He had made a promise two phoebs ago, and he intended to keep it. He wasn’t going to let this happen again. Never again.

_Hunk drained his entire water pouch in a single gulp, squishing every last drop out through the straw until his cheeks were puffy with liquid. Pidge was sprawled flat on her back and singing loudly over Allura’s suggestions for how to fix her stance while Adam, Shiro, and Matt had formed a roasting circle in the corner. Keith and Lance had disappeared a good five dobashes ago to get more water pouches for everyone, but they weren’t back yet, and training was going to start up again any tick now. Hunk was seriously loathe to go in with a raspy throat._

_So he just figured he would meet them halfway, remind the two that they had to actually get back to training instead of bickering in the hallways, and he would get his water. Not a big deal, just a few dobashes of his life._

_He did not expect to see his two leaders curled up against the wall, Lance sprawled in Keith’s lap and Keith running his fingers through the brown locks slowly, rhythmically. His throat locked for a moment, the memory of Lance thrashing in agony in Keith’s arms when he had that migraine surfacing to taunt Hunk once again. But Keith’s expression, lips pursed instead of teeth ground together, and eyes fixed on Lance instead of slammed shut to hide his own terror, knocked that fear mercifully aside._

_“You won,” stated Keith softly, fiddling with one of Lance’s tangles as if afraid of pulling it too hard._

_Hunk blinked, but Lance drew in a deep breath like he knew exactly what Keith was talking about. Then the taller boy exhaled a short, lilting sigh and nestling further into Keith’s lap._

_“Yeah.”_

_Hunk knew this was his moment to slip away; he hadn’t heard anything confidential (and intelligible) yet, so it wasn’t eavesdropping. Anything more, and he wouldn’t be able to defend himself from that charge. But when Lance opened those blue eyes, the ones bearing the look they always wore after one of Iverson’s lectures, something bound Hunk’s feet to the ground. Something that reminded him of a thin, brown boy with a chipped tooth standing between the new kid and a group of bullies. Something he hadn’t realized he missed._

_“I told you.”_

_Lance let out a bark of laughter at that, but Keith’s smile never dimmed. “Shiro was proud too.”_

_Oh, right! Keith must be congratulating Lance for beating Shiro in sparring today not once or twice, but three times! It had been like watching the ocean fight a volcano, one weaving and dancing around the other’s attacks, the other powerful but focused, and both moving like they were born ready. But then Lance swept Shiro’s foot out from under him, and the older man had toppled out of bounds, allowing Lance to join Allura and Keith as the only ones to ever best Shiro. It really was impressive, Hunk should remember to compliment him about that la—_

_“You’re not…I don’t know, going to nosedive when we get back in?”_

_Lance snorted, rolling onto his back and staring into Keith’s eyes as if they were vast galaxies he could lose himself in forever. Hunk’s breath caught in his chest._

_“I’m fine, don’t worry about me, Mullet!”_

_“Of course I’m going to!” Snapped Keith, scowl coming back full force and prompting a spurt of laughter from Lance._

_“Right, right, sorry!” He got out between chuckles, making no move to rise from Keith’s lap. “Bad phrasing, lo siento.”_

_Keith’s jaw loosened ever so slightly and he shifted so Lance’s head could be properly pillowed through his giggling. Lance’s grin only widened, but his eyes were so soft, softer than Hunk had ever seen before. “I’ll let you know if I need a break, but…well, your mullet can be very distracting from any unwanted thoughts. I swear, I am absolutely going to trim it before our next meeting!”_

_“Lance, if you come within five feet of me with a pair of scissors, I quiznaking swear—!”_

_Hunk twisted his head to the side, mouth curling into a hook and jaw tightening. Unwanted thoughts? Needing a break? And why was Keith worried enough that he was willing to let Lance use him as a lap pillow? What did it have to do with sparring?_

_“Come on, let’s get back! Hunk’s going to need his water soon!” Reminded Lance, but his usually springy movements were slow and cautious as he rose._

_Keith’s hands came up to brace Lance’s arms, and Hunk’s eyebrows nearly shot into outer space when Lance leaned into him while standing up. Lance had once lost a tooth protecting Hunk from bullies in elementary school, and even in his beaten, bloody shape on the ground, he had waved off the offered hand to pull him back to his feet. Lance didn’t accept physical help unless something was really, **really** wrong._

_“You’re going to faceplant,” declared Keith, hands still firm beneath Lance’s arms, mouth tight and eyes flickering with a light Hunk couldn’t quite identify._

_“Nah, I’m good,” replied Lance lightly. “My legs stopped shaking, and we can tag-team these waters.”_

_What?!_

_“Okay, that’s enough!” Declared Hunk, stomping around the corner and folding his arms like a giant angry pretzel._

_Keith immediately stiffened, chin jerking up and eyes flashing with a glare that Hunk **definitely** recognized as his _oh-so-friendly-pre-murder _light. Hunk didn’t mind, that was Keith’s natural reaction whenever he was startled. Lance, on the other hand, went white as a ghost and his throat bobbed in a gulp, eyes darting to the box filled with water packs behind them. Hunk’s scowl deepened (it was a weird feeling, he hadn’t made this face since Iverson tried to harass Lance about a present he had made for his niece for her birthday, but it hadn’t lost any of its effectiveness). Then he sighed. “I can get those if you guys finish flirting out here.”_

_“HUNK!” Shrieked Lance, and Keith’s pre-murder light begun to shift towards his_ murder-now _light._

_Hunk just smiled and scooped the box into his arms, winking at the two as he spun to return to the training room._

_“Have fun you two~”_

_“HUNK!”_

_He giggled and darted around the corner, pursing his lips the tick he was out of sight. He hesitated._

_“You sure you’re going to be okay?” Asked Keith softly. “I can spar with Shiro for a while.”_

_Lance blew out a long breath, the shuffle of his sleeves swirling around his hands as they settled against his hips._

_“I’ve got this,” he promised, a grin flickering into his words. “It’s like you said; he’s our Shiro. Nothing to be scared of. Plus, a great noble Samurai dost await his triumphant Sharpshooter’s victory dance, dost he not?”_

_“I think Pidge will electrocute you if you do that weird turkey thing again.”_

_“Chicken dance, Keith, the chicken dance,” corrected Lance mock-scoldingly. “It is a **classic**.”_

_“And Pidge, in her own words, gives zero quiznaks,” replied Keith easily, and then Hunk had to scurry away as the clump of heavy boots signaled their movement back towards the training room._

Lance was the one thing in Hunk’s life that had been completely unwavering. He had believed in Hunk, had chosen him and stayed with him through the Garrison regardless of the bile. Lance had offered Hunk his hand as a kid, had pulled him away from a life of hiding in the shadows, had screamed from the roof of the school that he and Hunk were going to space one day. Lance was Hunk’s best friend. He was one of the best people in Hunk’s life, and the idea that he could believe that he wasn’t enough…… 

Hunk should have known, logically. He had known Lance for almost his whole life, had watched him laugh and boast that the fighter pilot class must be crying without him, had seen the way his eyes were pooled with the light of the bathroom afterwards. Hunk had heard Lance training desperately, as if trying to claim his worth in vargas of laps and simulations, had heard the jokes become quieter and less frequent, dying off into silence. A silence that had agitated and terrified Hunk even though he didn’t know why, had made him dive into his work frantically to hide from it, never imagining that the silence could be his best friend’s suffering. Because how could _Lance_ , the dancer, the sharpshooter, the diplomat, the Blue and Red and Black Paladin, the heart of the team, the bravest and funniest and kindest person Hunk had ever met, _possibly not know his worth?_

It was beyond comprehension. 

Hunk gritted his teeth, images of Lance clutching his throbbing head and sobbing out apologies as Keith clutched him in a teary hug still flashing behind his eyes, and every ounce of rage Hunk had been swallowing for decaphoebs surged up and clawed at his heart. Hunk may not have been able to protect Lance the first time, but that just meant he needed to try harder this time. And he would rather fight Zarkon by himself than let his family down again. 

But Hunk wouldn’t do it through anger. 

That wasn’t who he was. It never had been. 

“Lance works harder than any of us here. He’s the reason we can keep working the way we do without burning out. If you can’t respect that, then you’d better believe I won’t let you within three feet of Lance.” 

“Oh!” Exclaimed Ezor, eyes lighting up as she tugged Kuron back into position again instead of where he sat staring at Hunk. “So that’s how you think! Heh, that’s actually just like Acxa. If I’m sitting around drawing and she didn’t see me finish my paperwork, she goes off on me!” 

“A traditional Galran leader,” added Narti, snapping a hair tie around Romelle’s braid and reaching for the basket of flowers beside her. “Acxa follows every rule exactly to make sure she can be taken seriously and not embarrass Lotor. I wonder if our Blue Paladin clone is similar?” 

“I mean, Haggar designed him to be a leader, so she would use the data she would see as leader-esque,” pointed out Pidge, eyes locked on the screen and straw crushed between her teeth by now. “Wouldn’t be surprising.” 

Kuron’s jaw tensed, his black eyes wrinkling and brow clenching until lines etched themselves into his forehead. 

“I’m like the Galra?” 

The ones who had experimented and created him solely to love Voltron and hurt everyone in it? The ones who made him incapable of treating them like they deserved? Who had taken everything from him and the one who came before him twice? 

“Yeppers!” Chirped Ezor, grinning and winding a blue tie around his braid as her tongue slipped out between her lips. “You’re like us! Welcome to the club, buddy!” 

Kuron blinked, and Ezor snickered. “Uh, I’m still half-Galran over here! Narti too, and Zeth is, like, actually three-fourths or something? Acxa’s the same way, and I swear one of your Black Paladins is too. You’re not, like, Mr. Scary because of that.” 

“What you do with your heritage is up to you,” agreed Narti. “It took me a very long time to come to terms with who I am. Every time I looked through my cat’s eyes, I either looked too Galran or too Ytinjish. I never could see myself without those lenses.” 

“Same here,” agreed Ezor, who had taken to batting at the braid like a content cat, the light bouncing off her irises like water on the beach. “I only started feeling like I could be myself and that would be enough after I met Lotor and these gals.” 

She grinned at Narti and the door as if she could find her girlfriend and commander just by smiling hard enough. “I am Galran and I’m Ovezrun. I can’t change either, so I’m not ‘too much’ or ‘not enough’ of either. The same goes for you. You’re pretty much part-Galra and not some demon, congrats. But that’s just because you’re _you._ ” 

Ezor sighed softly, the usual bubbles dancing in her words lying in popped messes on the table. Narti’s head jerked up, lips twisting into a knot, but Ezor gave a dismissive flop of her hand. “You get to choose who you are.” 

“Yeah, so, uh, how about part of that choice is _I’m-going-to-trust-Lance-to-do-his-job_? It would definitely help your standing here,” suggested Hunk, his shoulders lowered and voice even. “Lance deserves your trust. You being Galra isn’t why we don’t like you. You treating our family like they’re not enough is why we don’t like you.” 

Kuron swallowed, his throat clenching around the lump in his throat, and he flexed his prosthetic fingers. Lance had once sat with him for three vargas, griping for one more arm wrestling match no matter how many times he lost, and he remembered the feeling of his eyebrow twitching as they went at it for easily the fiftieth time. Lance had been promptly crushed, but he just fixed the clone with a blinding smile. _See?_ His eyes had screamed. _It doesn’t matter which hand you use; you’re never going to hurt us._

He couldn’t just blame everything he had done on Haggar’s control. He had a chance this time, an opportunity to make it right; he couldn’t run away forever. He had to live up to that smile. 

“How do you guys balance that expectation with trust?” 

And he wasn’t going to be able to do that alone. 

Ezor’s eyes blew wide, lips splitting into a grin before she knew it, and Narti nodded once with something reminiscent of a smile as she tucked a blue, swaying flower behind Romelle’s ear. Hunk’s eyes warmed into pure hot chocolate, and Pidge’s tapping slowed, a curve to her lips spreading up into her cheeks. This was what he had wanted all along. A way to protect them that didn’t hurt them. And, this time, Kuron was going to find it. He wasn’t going to give up on these smiles. 

“Okay, so I always make sure to, like, ask if they’ve done the assignment instead of just going off on them, but if they’re making excuses, I’m just like _nope, nuh uh, zip, you have work to do and you will do it_ , but Zeth’s usually standing behind me, glaring, so that might have something to do with…” 

Ezor continued chattering away, and Kuron leaned in to listen. He wasn’t going to miss a word. 

That is, until a chirping sound erupted from behind him and sent him toppling off the chair onto his face. Pidge let out a bark of laughter, and Ezor slapped both hands over her mouth as if that could hide the flood of giggles slipping past. Hunk snickered, popping some of the vegetable into his mouth and nearly choking, and Romelle clutched her stomach as she sang gaily with laughter. Even _Narti_ chuckled, pulling her communicator from her bag and holding it up to her cat’s face. 

If this had been five dobashes ago, Kuron would have growled. He would have glared daggers at all of them until they shut up. He would have been enraged at this embarrassment. 

Now, he just buried his forehead deeper into the floor and groaned. 

“I’m never going to hear the end of this one, am I?” 

“Never!” Declared Pidge, not bothering to hide her cackles as she returned to her coding. “I’ve gotta check the cameras later; I bet they got that on recording.” 

Kuron groaned louder in protest, and Hunk just shook his head sympathetically. 

“It’s all over for you, bud.” 

“Ah, this is good news,” stated Narti, scrolling through the message on her screen before pocketing it once more and returning to Romelle’s flower-bejewelled locks. “He will arrive in one quintant. When he does, you might consider coming with us, Kuron. I believe that you will be most happy getting to see the best side of the Galra Empire.” 

“What? Who’s coming” Chirped Ezor, twisting to raise an eyebrow at her companion as she continued to take pictures of the still-sprawled Kuron. 

Narti arched an eyebrow. 

“Lotor, of course.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I own nothing!


	9. Her World

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Come on, Grumperson!” He called, throwing a blanket over Pidge’s hunched, squawking form and trapping the soft fabric around her in a hug. “It’s our last Chill-In Night in space! You promised you would put down the computer after sevennnnnnn!”

“Yo, Pidgeotto! You ready in here?” Chirped Lance as he shuffled into the lab, the remnants of his dance lessons with Keith slipping into each step.

“No,” came the bladed response from behind a teetering stack of metal scraps, blueprints, and abandoned packets of nutritional water. “Not now, Lance.”

A movement ago, the grated hiss behind her words would have hunched his shoulders down, snapped his teeth into one another, and drawn his lips up into a shuddering smile. It would have crawled into his mind and festered, gathering scraps of darkness to chuck at him with each back turned.

Lance grinned.

“Come on, Grumperson!” He called, throwing a blanket over Pidge’s hunched, squawking form and trapping the soft fabric around her in a hug. “It’s our last Chill-In Night in space! You promised you would put down the computer after sevennnnnnn!”

He had called an emergency night after the news of Lotor’s impending arrival; Allura needed a bit of chill time, and they were all preparing to leave in three quintants. It was really the diplomats’ last chance to hang out with their little sister before they hit Earth again. Pidge’s lips curved in response, and she heaved a shoulder-shaking sigh like she was shutting the world away as she tapped the computer screen down.

“Fine, you big baby,” she teased, reaching free of the blanket to ruffle Lance’s hair. “What video game am I winning at tonight?”

“Hey! I’ll have you know I am the _master_ of—”

“Lance, the last three times you said that, I kicked your butt,” deadpanned Pidge, smirking at the pout she received in return. “So, what am I winning in?”

“Allura wants to play Outlast.”

Pidge blinked. Lance whistled as he continued tidying up Pidge’s equipment, chucking pieces of viariol back into their proper spots as if he had designed the setup and not just vaporized his teammate’s brain.

Last time Allura has joined their game night, she had insisted they play Chuzzle and Angry Birds, and had eventually assented to Mario Kart (which she got way too into, and had taken to ramming Pidge and Lance off the track at any and all opportunities), but had refused to even play Slenderman (which Pidge would never understand the appeal of; why wander endlessly in the woods with a faceless guy following you when it was just a couple of hacks to victory?) Heck, Allura had spent three hours playing garden games when given the chance, and had literally _hissed_ at Lance when he tried to tell her they had a meeting to go to. She was the one who had walked out of the room when Pidge and Lance started _talking_ about playing Five Nights at Freddy’s. And she had just suggested they all play Outlast.

“...........Lance?”

“Hmm?”

“Where is the real Allura and what has Lotor done with her?”

Lance let out a bark of laughter and leaned back against the wall.

“Nice question, but consider this,” he suggested, wiggling his eyebrows and smirking, “what does she _think_ Outlast is about?”

“That was…scarring,” stated Allura from where she crouched, hiding behind Pidge as best as she could while glaring at the screen in a dignified manner.

If dignified included curling around oneself and pouting as Lance braided her hair behind her, snickering the whole time.

Pidge let out a snorting laugh as the end credits rolled; she had taken over for Allura after the Altean nearly jumped through the ceiling because her character had been thrown out a window. The plastic was warm by now, a steady, constant heat beneath her fingers. Like it belonged there.

“‘Lura, what exactly did you think Outlast was about?” Came Lance’s voice, jarring Pidge back to reality as the princess continued to pout. “It’s not exactly your standard gardening game name!”

Allura swatted Lance’s shoulder, twisting just enough that she could pin him with a scowl while not disturbing his braiding.

“I will knock you off the track next time we play Mario Kart and target solely you with my shells,” she threatened, a smile toying at the corner of her lips. “I assumed it was a strategy game. You know that would be most helpful in any operations against Zarkon.”

Lance scowled, wrapping his lanky legs around Allura’s torso and tugging her backwards into his arms, fingers still braiding over her shoulder.

“Knock that off!” He complained, nudging her head with his chin. “No work stuff on our Chill-In Night!”

“Yeah, Princess!” Chimed in Pidge, grinning as she poked at Lance’s fingers, gaining a grumble and dirty look from him as he tried to continue his hair work. “Even I put my gear down for the night; you leave your politicking outside the room!”

Allura pouted, drawing her knees up to her chest and leaning forwards. For a moment, the circlet looked so heavy upon her forehead.

“The final battle is drawing near,” she murmured, a faint sigh clinging to her words. “I want us to be prepared………I do not want to lose any of my family to this.”

“No worries, you won’t!” Chirped Lance, snapping a hair tie around her braid and tucking her close to his chest. “We’ve made it this far with less planning, after all. Leaping right in and just making it work is, like, the core tenant of Voltron!”

“Seriously,” agreed Pidge with a snicker, resting her elbows on Allura’s knees and grinning at the woman. “Not to mention, it doesn’t really matter what plan you give us; we’re just going to do our own thing. We’re all gears in the same system; if we all do what works for us, the whole thing will somehow keep running.”

Allura’s lips pinched into a tight line, and Pidge’s lungs constricted. A memory surged up, flashing behind her eyes as if conjured from smoke. The two of them sitting next to each other after the Kral Zera, staring at the bay doors, waiting…waiting……waiting………

_The Princess’ long hair fell in white waves around her face, her mouth set in a firm line and diamond-blue eyes glaring at the closed hangar doors as if she could summon their Black and Red Paladins by sheer force of will. Her dark fingers were curled tightly around the white of her sleeve, and her shoulders were a wall of stone. Like she was used to those she loved not coming back._

Pidge had just sat and stared back then, caught up in how similar two such different people could be. She had waited, staring, as if someone else was going to wipe that expression off Allura’s face. As if two people who were so similar didn’t share a strong enough bond for her to be the one to do that. As if, somehow, Pidge wasn’t Allura’s family.

Pidge’s hands cradled Allura’s cheeks, her forehead knocking softly against the Princess’, and a faint smile curled onto her lips. “You saved my family, Allura. There’s no way I’m going to let you lose yours. Never again. You’re always going to have us, no matter what happens,” promised Pidge, raising her eyes to lock with her friend’s—her sister’s—crystalline ones. “We’re not going to leave you alone.”

Allura sucked in a stuttering breath, and Lance tightened his arms around her; the Black and Green paladins trapping her in a double-pronged hug attack. Her shoulders rose, tightening beneath their touch, light bouncing off her eyes as if the water was swelling up to shield her. Her fingers tightened around her sleeves, teeth snagging at her lip, and a faint tremor raced through her shoulders.

Then she melted into the embrace.

“Thank you,” breathed Allura. “Thank you so much.”

A faint smile curled over her lips and Pidge grinned, pulling back and returning to unplugging the console. Allura’s gaze followed the smaller paladin as she snuggled back into Lance. That the tiny, angry green gremlin they had picked up over a year ago had somehow warmed into this straight-backed, chin-raised, volcano of a paladin and gem of a sister couldn’t help but make her smile. “Pidge, what are you most looking forward to upon returning to Earth? Any particularly human activity?”

Every muscle locked. Pidge’s blink came fast—rapid and uneven, like she had been trying to wink and had accidentally dragged her other eye into it—and the familiar, black console slid to the floor. Her fingers twisted around each other, her chest seizing and jaw snapping taut. Code began to flood her mind, smashing her thoughts against the wall and wiping away her feelings as if they were only silt being eroded in the blink of an eye. Yeah, she wished.

It was weird. Pidge had always been on good terms with her family—great, even—but the thought of going back made her stomach weld itself into steel knots. There was no logical reason behind it that she could make note of or dissect. Her family had done nothing to deserve these feelings, had supported all her decisions, had always told her how smart and beautiful she was. But still……the thought of going back to that dinner table, of tucking her hair behind her ear and smiling politely when she was mad, of allowing her genius brother and parents to talk so she could listen and “learn” from them, and returning to her role as the perfect genius daughter was…tiring. To say the least.

“Pidge? Are you alright?”

A daughter. She would be a daughter again. Not a respected paladin, a brilliant technician, or even a good fighter, no. She would just be a daughter. The youngest with so much to learn and yet so many expectations upon her shoulders. Pidge hadn’t just built herself a life up here; she had built herself a whole world. She was Pidge Holt, the Paladin of the Green Lion, the tech wiz, the resident nerdy chatterbox whenever new alien advancements were discovered, the one who spoke code instead of English (according to Lance), the genius workaholic. She was important, and everyone knew and valued her for that.

Pidge’s gaze flitted to the stars just beyond her window, so unlike the trees that consumed the view from her old bedroom. Her nails bit into her palm, glasses slipping down the bridge of her nose and past her unseeing eyes. She guessed she had gotten used to being indispensable. To feeling…needed.

“Yo, Pidgey? You with me?”

She didn’t want that to change. She didn’t want to watch her world crumble around her, for the life she had built for herself to just be game over like that!

“Pidge?”

Pidge had fought and forged, had bit and built, had coded and carved this life out of ruins—she had theorized her way into this new, wide open universe. And to just _go back_ , to leave like it was _nothing_ , like everything she had created _was nothing_ , like her entire universe, like everything she loved and was, _had always only been nothing, and it would always only be nothing—_

“HEY!” Squawked Pidge as a pillow was slammed into her nose, sending her flailing backwards and narrowly avoiding smacking Allura in the face. “Lance, what the quiznak?!”

Lance laughed, patting Pidge’s floating cloud of hair and pushing her glasses back up her nose so they perched barely a third of the way down. Exactly where she liked to keep them. Pidge’s heart relaxed into the familiar gesture, and she blew a strand of hair out of her face only for Allura to flick it back to frame her glasses. She knew how much Pidge hated having hair trapped behind her ear.

“Awwwwwww, come on!” Whined Lance, poking Pidge in the side and waggling his eyebrows as a giggle escaped her lips. “No secrets on Chill-In Night! What’s clogging up the Pidgeon’s mind? And, I swear, if it’s work-related, I will punt you through the window and scream _all the vines_ after you!”

Pidge snorted, swatting Lance’s hands away from her ticklish sides and trying to cobble together a good explanation in her head. Also known as, which lie were they most likely to belie—

Lance pounced, attacking Pidge’s sides with tickles and cackling along with her shrieks of laughter.

“Lance! I will end you!” Squealed Pidge, rolling across the floor as if that would somehow stall the merciless assault on her abs.

“Try me!” Challenged Lance, a crooked grin lighting up his face. “It does not take that long to answer a simple question, you little weasel! Now, what’s going on?”

“Better answer quickly,” warned Allura, lips tilting up into a smile. “I have been told my tickling is quite…ruthless.”

If Pidge could have shuddered while also shrieking with laughter, she would have. _Matt_ had taught Allura how to tickle, and Allura’s nimble fingers along with Matt’s lessons made for a terrifying combo. Her lie had better be convincing.

“Allura. Assist.”

“Gladly.”

“Ack! Wait, no! I’ll tell you, just stop tickling me, you giant rubber coding duck!”

Allura toppled over backwards, peals of laughter shooting from her lips, and Lance’s jaw dropped. He threw one hand to his chest and tossed his chin as he let out a hearty gasp. Pidge rolled her eyes; drama queen.

“How dare you? That’s Mr. Giant Rubber Coding Ducky to you, gremlin!”

“Oh, so much bett—”

“Quack quack! Mr. Giant Rubber Coding Ducky did not give you permission to speak, quack.”

“Do you even know the point of a coding duck?!”

Lance smirked and poked her forehead in response. As if either of them had forgotten the weeks he had spent in her lab, curled around her as she babbled at him until her problems were all dangling in the air for her to decode and rearrange into a linear, logical fashion.

“Obviously it’s to quack at the coder!”

“No, you giant—!”

“Quack quack quackers!”

“Lan—”

“ _Quack quack quackers!_ ”

“Would you just—”

“QUACK QUACK QUACKERS!” Chorused Allura and Lance, and Pidge surrendered to the inevitability of collapsing on her side as gasps of laughter shook her muscles and her friends drew into a spinning, quacking circle around her.

God, they were dorks. And ducks. Dork ducks. Durcks. Docks—wait, that didn’t work. Durcks, then. Yep, Pidge was surrounded by two dancing, laughing, quacking durcks. Wow, she had forged a weird world for herself to live in.

And yet, somehow, Pidge had no regrets.

“So!” Chirped Lance, flopping down beside Pidge and twisting to look at her. “You want to talk about it, or nah?”

Pidge turned, amber eyes gliding over Lance and sliding over to Allura, who had laid down beside her two Earth siblings. Pidge’s throat spasmed around her next swallow, and she let the tension slowly bleed out of her shoulders. She slipped one hand into Lance’s, lacing the other one with Allura’s.

“Nah,” she breathed. “I think I’ll be okay with this.”

Because it wasn’t just her in the world she had carved out for herself. She had her family in it; she had people who knew her as Pidge Holt, the Paladin of the Green Lion, the tech wiz, the resident nerdy chatterbox whenever new alien advancements were discovered, the one who spoke code instead of English (according to Lance), the genius workaholic. She had people who would never forget that she was important, who would always value her for that. She wasn’t alone anymore. That was half of why Pidge loved this life—loved this _world_ —she was in. Because she wasn’t the only one who had built it, who had fought for every inch of this universe. She had a family of paladins by her side who would rather fight to the death than let her be disrespected, who would never talk over her, who would always look to her for input on their plans. Pidge had people who would listen now, who saw her not only for who she could be, but for how amazing she was already.

“Yeah,” she decided, a smile blossoming over her face as the tension melted free of her body. “This is enough for me.”

Lance’s mouth twisted into a bow, and he reached over, pulling a curl free from her glasses as he studied the light springing from her eyes.

Then he grinned.

“Okay.”

“Okay?” Asked Pidge, twisting to raise an eyebrow at her space brother.

“Yep. Okay!” Repeated Lance, grinning as he ruffled the little gremlin’s hair. “If you don’t need to talk, I won’t force you. But if you ever want a rubber emotional duck in addition to a rubber coding duck…” Lance shrugged, smirking as Pidge cracked open an amber slit to try and scowl at him like she wasn’t grinning. “You know where to find me.”

“Keith’s bedroom?” Teased Pidge, attacking Lance’s hair and releasing a storm of squawking from the Black Paladin. “But yeah, I know. Thanks, Lance.”

Lance continued shrieking as he tried to bat her hands away, a stolen wink slipping through the increasingly high-pitched storm. _Anytime, Pidgeotto._

“Lance, how are you possibly making such a sharp sound?” Protested Allura, and Lance’s smile became devilish.

“Oh, you think that’s high-pitched?”

“Lance, I swear to quiznak—”

“ _YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!_ ”

“QUIZNACK, YOU ABSOLUTE SIREN, **SHUT UP!** ”

“ _EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!_ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I own nothing!


	10. Kosmo

“Lotor,” greeted Allura, extending her hand towards the haggard emperor from where she stood at the front of the table. “A pleasure, always.”

“The pleasure is all mine, Princess,” assured Lotor, shaking her hand firmly as if he hadn’t just blasted his way across the universe without rest for two quintants, his legs still stiff from the ride. “However, in this instance, I feel it is crucial to dispense with the formalities.”

“Formalities are the only reason you aren’t getting shouted out of the room,” snapped Keith. “Watch it.”

Lotor’s eyes flitted to the scowling paladin, lingering on the purple fang curving up his cheek as one eyebrow rose.

“I come bearing important news, I would rather be treated with civility regardless of formalities.”

“Does your ‘important news’ have anything to do with the, oh, I don’t know, _giant interdimensional comet you didn’t mention had gone missing and is now in Zarkon’s hands as he cruises towards our home planet?!_ ” Snarled Lance, jabbing a finger barely inches away from Lotor’s nose despite the diplomatic ramifications; his children were still on that planet, and this stuck-up little prick—! “Your generals are a lot smarter than you are, buddy.”

Lotor drew back from the finger, the memory of twin glowing lions flanking Lance more than vivid in his mind, and both eyebrows rose to meet his hairline.

“You are already aware?”

“Yes, Lotor,” stated Allura, frost bedecking her words as she sat. “As Lance said, your generals informed us when we were planning our next move after defeating Ladnok and Trugg. Your failure to share this information with Voltron has grievously affected the course of this war. If you had told us of the comet’s theft when it first fell from your possession, it would not currently reside with Zarkon, Haggar, and Sendak.”

Lotor’s eyebrows remained peaked.

“But how were my generals aware of this?” He asked, eyes flitting to the four women glowering at him from the table. “Even I didn’t know until approximately two vargas ago!”

Acxa blinked. Narti didn’t budge, and Ezor’s jaw went unhinged. Zethrid bashed her fists against the table, nearly cracking the wood as she shot to her feet.

“You didn’t what?! Lotor, this isn’t some small fry we’re talking about; you’ve been keeping people posted on Zarkon for phoebs!”

“Which is why I heard of it two vargas ago,” replied Lotor, spreading his hands as his eyes remained blown wide, taking his own seat at the table. “My spies were just able to relay the message back to me. Apparently, their reports were being intercepted by Trugg and Ladnok for phoebs. How on Altea did you four know of this?”

Acxa exhaled, tipping her head back to knock against her chair as her arms went rigid in their folded position.

“I heard it from one of the spies; they said they had been informing you of this for phoebs. I suppose news of the interception had yet to be processed.”

Keith wondered if it would be worth a diplomatic crisis to flip the table right then.

“So, you are saying,” started Allura, each word laced with venom, “that the reason the most powerful weapon in the universe besides Voltron is in Zarkon’s hand is because of a _filing error?_ ”

“More like a game of telephone,” chirped Lance, beaming like he could shoot rays of burning sunlight through the ship and straight into his enemies’ heads. “If we hadn’t already busted Ladnok and Trugg’s heads, I’d love to punch them into an alternate reality for this one.”

Keith was still tempted to punch _Lotor_ into an alternate reality for this one. Was it his fault? Probably not; Allura and Lance could smell lies a mile away. Did that change the fact that Keith wanted to sock _someone_ for the fact that Lance had looked like someone had ground the already-crushed pieces of his heart into the ground and spat on the dusty remains when he realized it? _Absolutely not._

“All right,” sighed Lance, pinching the bridge of his nose and summoning up his _I-am-a-paladin-and-a-diplomat-so-I-will-not-gut-this-alien-prince_ smile like a magic trick. “All right. So you came to tell us about the comet then?”

“I left the tick it came to my attention,” stated Lotor, a slight smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “I fear that my haste may have…alarmed several of my personnel.”

Allura chuckled, her shoulders unclenching and sliding down in a smooth whoosh, and a smile curved across her face like a fresh flower. Acxa’s lips condensed into a pout at the glow shining off Allura’s face at Lotor, arms locking at her side as if trying not to cross them, and her eyebrows twitched. Lance winced, his wind flickering back to Keith’s meeting with Azve. He had been so terrified that he was going to lose Keith that he _couldn’t breathe, couldn’t stop shaking, couldn’t think anything besides **no, no, please don’t leave me again, please—**_

Keith’s fingers wound between his own under the table, squeezing twice, and Lance flinched back to reality. He had Keith with him. It was going to be okay. He wasn’t going to lose him again. Lance would make quiznaking sure of that.

“I believe Coran can speak for the fact that terror is part of serving battlefield royalty,” replied Allura, lacing her fingers and resting them atop the table. “But, if we are lucky, that is not a position either of us shall hold for much longer.”

“Nothing would please me more,” agreed Lotor, smile reaching up and shining through his eyes.

Acxa’s eyebrows twitched again.

“So, about making that happen!” Cut in Lance, his grip tightening around Keith’s hand. “We’re planning on taking off in, like, three quintants. Anything you want us to pick you up from Earth? An updog? Do you want updog?”

Keith coughed, raising his fist to cover both his mouth and the near-silent stream of cackles coming from the air vent. Pidge, for all her complaints, delighted in being small. Especially that one time she had dropped an entire bowl of sauce-caked nukles (Hunk called and treated them as noodles) onto Keith’s head and recorded his flurry of swipes and stabbing in random locations following the sneak attack. She still had the video, and Keith was pretty sure from Lance’s snickering at dinner afterwards that he had it too.

Right now, though, he really hoped she was recording this. Even Allura was grinning from pointed-ear-to-pointed-ear.

“What is updog?” Queried Lotor.

“I don’t know, what’s up with you?!” Screeched Lance, and Ezor doubled over, shrieking with laughter.

She had always caught onto Lance’s jokes strangely fast for an alien who had no way of knowing Earth pop culture references.

“I…I do not understand, I have already informed you as to the current state of my affairs within the war? And how is my well-being related to this ‘updog’ of yours?”

Keith had no intention of admitting that it had taken him three times continuously asking what an ‘updog’ was and Hunk slowing down the joke for him to understand it; he was content to just laugh at Lotor’s confusion. Plus, Lance had that gleam in his eye that screamed satisfaction, brightening even further when Allura nearly choked trying not to snort.

Lotor blinked, studying the group as his lips began to twist into a spiral on his face, and he glanced at Acxa for support. Acxa was gazing at the giggling princess like she was every sun in the galaxy seared into one and burning away all darkness from the universe with just her smile. Lotor’s throat closed. Lance grinned.

He knew that look all too well. It was the one he saw every time he caught Keith’s eye during negotiations, on the training deck, in the Black Lion…anywhere and everywhere. Just like their love.

Lotor’s blue eyes flickered from Acxa to Narti, his eyebrow creeping up into a bridge as the silent question arced through the two—

_THWUMP!_

Lotor yelped under the sudden crushing weight, streaks of blue and black consuming his vision and melding with the hint of silvery light that had blasted into the air over his head. He was hurled from the chair, crashing face-first into the frozen white Altean tiles, fingers scrabbling for some sort of purchase and finding only air. Ezor’s shriek behind him was coupled with the screech of seven chairs being thrown away from the table, and Lotor snatched at his weapon. His nose was burning against the icy floor. He just needed the weight to shift a bit……just a little to the left, and he could get his sword out—

“Awwww, it’s a puppy!” Cooed Keith, crouching in front of the giant space wolf casually crushing the Galran emperor and offering out his hand to sniff. “Where’d you come from, little guy?”

“Keith!” Warned Allura, whip sizzling in her hand as she eyed the wolf snuggling into Lotor’s back. “We don’t know how dangerous that beast i—”

“Awwww, who’s a friendly baby?” Chirped Lance, ruffling the wolf’s fur as he bent down by Keith’s side. “Who’s a fuzzy, friendly, baby?”

“Lan!” Protested Allura, slapping her forehead so hard her chin tipped towards the chandelier. “Some restraint, please!”

“Nope!” Replied Lance, smirking up at his sister as he continued to rub circles into the space wolf’s fur. “You’re just jealous you aren’t getting to pet the fuzzy baby! Come in, ‘Lura, plenty of room!”

Allura set her teeth against one another and drew herself upright as Keith cuddled the wolf close to him despite the flurry of licks slobbering over his cheek. Lotor and his generals were still diplomatic guests aboard the Castle of Lions; they were still powerful allies, and they had recently been attacked by the very palace they were staying on. There was no way the alliance was on anything but thin yuner (which Lance insisted was called ice in English, despite the completely different textures and depths of the two substances!) at this point.

She couldn’t afford to come across as undignified now.

“Keith, Lance—”

“Cutiecutiecutiecutiecutiecutiecutiecutie!” Squealed Ezor, flopping over the wolf and burying her face in its fur as her feet kicked between the air and the ground. “He’s so fluffyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy!”

“Ezor—”

“Is he a softie?” Asked Zethrid, lumbering over to join in the cuddle pile around a decidedly smug space wolf. “I’ve been wanting to hug a softie all day.”

“Zethrid!” Groaned Acxa, pressing one hand to her forehead as the general continued to stroke the snuggling wolf.

“Come on, Narti!” Sang Ezor, peppering the wolf’s nose with kisses as Keith curled his arms around the space wolf and nuzzled into the tickling fur. “He’s so sweet!”

Narti’s cat hissed, curling around the general’s neck in protest even as Romelle wrapped her arms around the taller woman and practically dragged her towards the wolf with huge sparkling eyes and giggles streaming from her lips. Acxa didn’t even try on that one.

“My apologies, Princess Allura,” she murmured, the tips of her ears lighting up silver. “They are hardly well-versed in…decorum.”

Allura couldn’t help the smile tugging at the corner of her lips, and her marks glowed bright pink as Lance threw an exaggerated wink in her direction.

“Well, neither are mine,” replied Allura with a shake of her head, a mix between a huff and a laugh tumbling free as she retracted her whip, snapping it into stardust as she extended her other hand towards Acxa. “Shall we go greet our newest guest then? I believe that, if they had murderous intent, all of our friends would be long dead by now.”

Acxa’s lips blossomed into a smile, her own gun sliding back into its holster and her fingers curling over Allura’s even as her ears burned like twin suns.

“I concur,” she said, lacing her fingers with the princess’ and gingerly resting her free hand against Allura’s arm. “Let us meet this new one.”

Allura giggled, bringing her palm up to fall over Acxa’s blue one. And, in the back of her mind, Allura knew Acxa’s skin shouldn’t be soft. It should be calloused by a life of war, by growing up outcasted and hated by everyone around her, regardless of race. It should be calloused from being raised with a gun clasped in each hand if it meant survival. It should be torn, ripped to shreds and sewn back together by sheer ragged grit and burning determination. Acxa’s skin should be lined by her stories, should be a mural of the lives she had saved and the lives she couldn’t, should be a tribute to her suffering and her survival. Allura knew that.

But all she could feel right then was the pulsing warmth beneath that skin, the reassuring beat promising life, promising a tomorrow Allura could devote her life to. Promising that Acxa had survived long enough for Allura to fall in love with her.

And that was all that Allura needed to know for sure.

“Perhaps, once we have arrived on Earth,” she murmured, crystalline irises held captive by Lance and Keith’s tangled fingers as they petted the nuzzling space wolf, “would you be terribly opposed to us taking dinner privately in the dance hall, Acxa?”

Acxa’s entire face flushed silver, shimmering like an arrow placed in sunlight, and she tightened her hold around Allura as her mouth contorted silently. Allura gulped, as if that could swallow the terror searing up through her stomach and scalding mangled hearts into her throat. She was an expert in teasing Lance about asking Keith out, not in actually courting the supremely cute and powerful Galran general who had stolen her heart just by walking onto her ship.

Altean customs dictated that Allura should be offering Acxa a bracelet woven of the juniberries grown by her mother specifically to serve as engagement flowers; that she should guide Acxa by the hand in their first ballroom dance so her father could bless the couple; that she should press her circlet against Acxa’s forehead and wait as the stored quintessence in the gem created a matching crown for her queen, for her love, for her soulmate. Allura should be offering Acxa security, undiluted devotion, and a place on the Altean throne.

She couldn’t do any of that.

“I would love that, Allura,” breathed Acxa, fixing shining eyes brighter than the sky on Allura’s face like she was everything that was beautiful in the world and more, more, more, so much more. “What time would you prefer?”

All Allura could offer Acxa was her hand and her heart.

“Would seven be convenient?”

“Most convenient,” promised Acxa, squeezing Allura’s hand tentatively as the two swished over to the wolf cuddle pile.

Allura would just have to hope that what she had to give was enough.

“I look forward to it.”

Lotor’s eyebrow twitched as his nose continued to burn against the Altean tiles, tingling like he needed to sneeze.

“Would one of you _please_ get this creature off of me?”

“So you found a space wolf cub in something called a Quantum Abyss where two years passed,” started Keith, staring straight at Krolia as if he weren’t playing with aforementioned wolf cub right then, “and you decided to raise them and bring them back with you onto the ship without realizing that they could teleport—” Keith pulled a treat from his pocket that Hunk, for some bizarre reason, had on hand, and chucked it for the wolf to chase down, “—which you just found out because they dropped onto Lotor’s head.”

“Correct,” stated Krolia, lips twitching into something close to a smile as she studied the giant creature bounding across the deck, her son’s hand still outstretched from throwing the treat. “They looked lonely.”

Keith’s fingers twitched. Lonely. He knew a thing or two about being lonely.

“So you rescued him?”

_Even though you didn’t rescue me?_

Krolia’s teeth caught at her lip, the silent message screaming out into the air, and Keith kept his eyes locked ahead of him. He had given her a chance to earn his forgiveness; that didn’t mean he had forgiven her yet. It didn’t mean the slate was wiped clean between them. It just meant there was still a slate between them at all.

“I tried to save him,” Krolia said slowly, her hands curled loosely against her sides, not quite fists and not even close to relaxed. “But I believe that being loved the way he was when you all found him this morning will do more for him than what I did.”

Keith scowled, flicking another treat a few steps away from the space wolf and shooting his eyes over to Krolia.

“You’re giving up?”

The wolf didn’t even glance at the treat, their snout locked on the pair who had lingered in the doorway long after Lance shooed everyone away to begin planning for the operation that would carry the paladins back to Earth and, after a very short debate, Lotor and Kuron to the cloning facility. Apparently, the clone was eager to see the reformed Galra Empire.

Krolia, on the other hand, had insisted that she would be going to Earth with the paladins.

“I am not giving up,” she grumbled. “I still intend to look after Yorak. I simply meant that……that there are things a large family can provide that I cannot. That there are advantages to having many people to love you.”

Keith folded his arms and lasered her with his eyes, waiting. Krolia just shrugged. “Your family is very loving. I am glad you have them. I just wish………”

Krolia trailed off, but words surged through Keith’s mind, thoughts that had spiraled on repeat during his third date with Lance.

_Lance deserved a perfect love story. But Keith didn’t know how to give that to him. Lance was his first boyfriend, his first date. He was Keith’s first crush and his last love, and Keith was more than willing to slice through space and time to bring him happiness. **But how the quiznak was he supposed to do that?!**_

Keith was Krolia’s first son and last child; he was the only family she had left, and she had already lost nineteen decaphoebs with him. He was everything she had been fighting for. Of course she wished that she could be part of his family. But she had no clue how to do that anymore than he knew how to woo Lance.

Keith swallowed.

“This mark,” he muttered, tapping the purple clawing atop his cheek and cutting his eyes back to the floor. “What is it? I got it after the fight against the Castle, but…”

Krolia blinked, studying the claw imprinted on his cheek, her fingers hovering in the air between her and Keith. Neither of them closed the distance.

Then Krolia’s face split with a smile, her eyes softening and glowing as if they had been made of molten pride all along, just waiting to catch the right angle to shine brighter than any star.

“This is a Lasilh,” she murmured, her voice almost reverent. “It is a mark that very few Galra ever achieve.”

“What does it mean?”

Krolia’s eyes crinkled, the faintest trace of a dimple creasing in her cheek and the lights pooling in the corners of her eyes.

“It means that you reached the pinnacle of your most powerful, most fundamental instinct; that you have faced the vulnerability that comes with tapping into your emotions so fully and accepted it. You unlock your strongest characteristics when tapping into your strongest feelings. You said you got this during your fight against the Castle?”

Keith’s fingers wound into a fist, clenching and unclenching in a jagged, harsh rhythm, and he jerked out a nod. Fighting. Of course that was his most fundamental instinct. Keith had been a fighter ever since he was a kid, even before his father died. And afterwards, it was like something had snapped inside of him. Keith had broken noses, received concussions, traded blows like his life depended on it, like it would erase the pain inside of him. Keith was a fighter. And it was something he had always been proud of. It was the reason he was still standing in the Castle of Lions. It was what had led him to his space family, to his soulmate, to a home he could claim as his own and know he had been claimed right back.

Fighting was part of Keith.

Krolia’s smile never wavered.

“During your fight against the Castle, I believe Shiro and Adam informed me that you protected Lance after he had been injured? Was that when you received this mark?”

Keith’s lips curled back to reveal his teeth as he swallowed down a snarl, the memory of Lance clutching his bleeding side, palm pressed over his seared and mangled jacket, and red seeping into the floor still vivid enough to choke every ounce of air out of him. Krolia chuckled. “Well, I suppose that is a sufficient answer. Your eyes are yellow again, Keith.”

“Your point?” Growled Keith, biting back the bile clawing at his throat.

Krolia inclined her chin towards the necklace bouncing against Keith’s collarbone, its twin swinging wildly around Lance’s neck right then as he dashed from one place to another in preparation for their next mission. Her smile turned wistful.

“Your strongest instinct is much like mine,” she sighed, thumb rubbing over the ring tattoo engraved into her fourth finger. “Mine was to sacrifice. But yours…I believe that your strongest instinct is to protect, Keith. It is to save the ones you love, no matter the cost.”

Keith blinked. The yellow drained from his sclera, and the space wolf’s snout nudged against his hand hesitantly. His fingers immediately tangled with the silky, blue fur, stroking along their head and drawing pattern against the skin hidden beneath. The wolf nuzzled against his leg, and Krolia’s eyes shone.

“To protect?”

“It certainly seems that way.”

“And yours was to sacrifice? But you have two marks…”

“My first was to sacrifice, Keith. My second was to fight. I grew up in a war zone; fighting meant surviving.”

“Yeah………I think I can understand that a little, at least.”

Krolia winced. Keith shrugged, threading his fingers through the wolf’s fur, and finally looked at her head-on. “It’s over. And I came out okay…I came out well enough to be a Black Paladin, anyway. Fighting gives you something: enough self-respect to get through another day until you make it somewhere. Giving up doesn’t do that.”

Keith patted the wolf, kneeling and cuddling the creature into his lap. “Also, his name is Kosmo.”

Krolia sighed, shaking her head slowly and sitting down beside the paladin.

“You and your father both insist on the strangest of names. Yorak is a perfectly acceptable name.”

Keith snickered, twisting to look at her and leaning against the wall, one hand still running through Kosmo’s fur.

“What did you want to name Yorak?”

“You.”

“No.”

Krolia groaned and threw her hands towards the ceiling; Keith gave a bark of laughter and nestled back against the wall. May as well get comfortable.

“Tell me about you and Dad,” he murmured, burying his cheek in Kosmo’s back and fastening his eyes upon Krolia. “Tell me about how you two met.”

Krolia hesitated, tension rippling through her like a gust of wind buffeting an old fence, and she ran her fingers through her hair.

“So I crash-landed my vessel outside of his house—”

“Oh my god, my Dad married a cryptid.”

“Actually, he said that quite often, but would never explain what it meant.”

Keith threw back his head, a peal of laughter bouncing around the room, and Krolia’s low, rumbling chuckles joined in after a tick. The two melded into one another, like the melody and harmony of a long-forgotten song, like an orchestra playing their first symphony together, like a new book being thumped open on an old desk. Like a beginning.

“Tell me more?” Asked Keith, tilting his head even as giggles continued to bubble up into his eyes, and Krolia stroked Kosmo’s head.

“With pleasure, Keith.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I own nothing!


	11. Found and Forged

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith woke up with Lance cradled in his arms on their last morning in space, castle light washing over his face and pooling in each freckle, transforming his cheeks into maps of the constellations that had guided the couple out into space over a decaphoeb ago.

Keith woke up with Lance cradled in his arms on their last morning in space, castle light washing over his face and pooling in each freckle, transforming his cheeks into maps of the constellations that had guided the couple out into space over a decaphoeb ago. It felt like a lifetime ago; a time when Keith had believed he had no chance of love or family in the world. A home, a future, happiness, it had all seemed to just brush past his fingertips before melting away before him. Keith wished he could reach back and yank his younger self into this moment, into this bedroom on the ship of his older space sister, his boyfriend tucked safely in his arms, and the promise of a crazy large space family filling every room along the hallway. As insane as their time in space had been, Keith wouldn’t change it for any reality.

Lance hummed, an unconscious melody as his arms tightened around Keith’s back, nose buried in the soft black Altean pajamas, and forehead smooth without the layers of stress that made up his quintants. The last Alliance meeting, which had started the quintant Lotor arrived, had run just until a few vargas ago, preparing every last detail each team needed to take off, and not a tick passed where Lance wasn’t needed in a minimum of two places at once. Everyone was being deployed in different locations on Earth to handle the different divisions of the vanguard that would inevitably be striking, so Allura needed him to help translate Earthen coordinates into the Altean system properly and then convert that into quintessence signals she could lock onto. Hunk needed him to help calculate the full breadth of allies and subsequent resources the Yellow Paladin had to acquire, Pidge was relying on his profiles of major rebel leaders which still needed to be printed, and Krolia had no clue where she would be staying in Blue. Matt was trying to get in contact with some of his superiors to confirm that he was, in fact, _alive_ , did Lance have their numbers? Wait, Allura had an emergency with the map and Coran was helping Romelle with—Shiro was saying—Hunk was still missing two members, he had to finish that up. Adam had found some Earth radio waves—were the profiles printed ye—the numbers—map—Kro—

Keith curled around Lance protectively as he remembered the constant echo of calls for his partner. Keith had yanked Shiro, Adam, and Krolia away a few dobashes in so that they could prepare Blue for the trip without crushing his partner under their bickering. Still, Lance ran half of the Alliance’s diplomatic work and he was one of the Black Paladins; there was only so much Keith could do to lighten his workload. At least he had convinced Black not to wake them up at an ungodly varga this time. They would have plenty of mind-melding to do later anyway.

Lance’s song stumbled, a slight hitch in his breathing distorting the melody, and Keith’s fingers slid through his hair.

“Hey, no,” he whispered, carding waves through the ocean of curls, tucking Lance’s head further into his shoulder. “Stay asleep, you idiot. You need it.”

Lance hummed, his quiet lullaby resuming its rhythm, and Keith began rubbing circles into his titanium excuse for a back. He needed to give his boyfriend a massage.

His boyfriend. Keith blew out a giggling breath, snuggling closer to Lance—to his _boyfriend_ —and soaking in the warmth radiating from his partner, from his soulmate, from the boy who loved Keith just as much as Keith loved him. It should be impossible for him to be this lucky, for him to wake up to Lance’s unstraightened curls and sleepy singing, for him to be able to cradle this sunshine boy in his arms first thing in the morning, for him to know that he had Lance’s heart the same way Lance had his. It was more than Keith had ever dared to dream of. It was almost more than he could believe, even after a movement of dating.

Keith exhaled gently, tucking a stray curl behind Lance’s ear and resting their foreheads together. He eased back into their tiny bed, blankets piled upon both of them, and slid the book they had fallen asleep reading out of the way. He also had a half varga to relax after all. He just needed to remember to grab a few new books before they left in Black……

“What?! Are you two serious?!” Cried Pidge, arms already trapping the tiny robot close to her chestplate, entire face glowing like someone had lit a sun underneath her skin. “Hunk! Lance! You guys made me a Rover II!”

Lance elbowed Hunk with a smirk, his free hand tousling Pidge’s hair.

“I mean, Hunk did most of the heavy lifting! I just got him the supplies! What do you think, Pidgeotto?”

Pidge nestled her face closer to the glowing robot, the soft teal light sparkling off the sheen in her eyes, smile engulfing her face.

“I think you both suck because you’re making me cry,” she replied, her grin widening as the two boys surrounded her in a group hug. “This better not be some stupid goodbye present though, because if it is, I’m going to chuck you both out the airlo—”

“It’s not,” promised Hunk, squeezing the two tighter and sniffling. “Definitely not! I’m going to introduce you to my family as soon as we’re back on Earth, and then we’re going to defeat Zarkon, and we’re all going to live happily ever after! No goodbyes involved!”

“Good!” Declared Pidge, leaning into the two and swallowing back the water pricking at her eyes. “I’ll see you two losers in three vargas then!”

“What? Three whole vargas?! Nooooo, I don’t want to be away from you guys that long!” Wailed Hunk, crushing the two to his chest, both squawking about a distinct lack of oxygen as he began bawling.

Ezor cooed at the scene, and Kuron couldn’t fight the affection seeping into his smile at the unadulterated joy glowing like sunshine around the shrieking trio. Lotor and Narti sighed at the same time, and Zethrid shot them a murder glare before making a point of joining her girlfriend in _aww_ ing at the three paladins. Acxa’s eyes flickered to the door, trained on it for any signs of movement, and Lotor smirked.

“Are you looking for Princess Allura, General Acxa?” He teased, biting his lip to keep from snickering as she whirled with a denial on her lips and silver radiating off of her ears. “I believe she will be in shortly. And, for Altea’s sake, hurry up and ask for her hand. I have endured Ezor and Zethrid’s mutual pining, Narti and Romelle’s flirting, and I refuse to stand for the heart eyes and layered courting you and Allura have chosen to pursue,” he complained, chin raised and chuckles confined to a faint tremor in his chest. “I have recommended that she take you to Oriande with her, though that was apparently already her intention. If you return without any progress having been made, I shall be most upset.”

Acxa sputtered, a string of broken protests hissing just past her teeth as the silver spread down her ears into her neck. Lotor giggled.

Acxa immediately pounced on the emperor, and a squeal from Ezor because _we haven’t done a cuddle pile in forever!_ brought the rest of the generals into a running dive onto the steaming Acxa and cackling Lotor with a great _WHUMP_.

Keith snickered, handing Matt the last of the provisions and a few extra hacking supplies he had snuck from the Castle’s tech room.

“Thanks, Keith!” Chirped Matt, stashing them into his bag and flashing a wink at the shorter boy. “I’ll put them to good use!”

“I’m sure,” snorted Keith as the hacker stood, extending his arms and smirking at his space cousin. “Good luck out there, Matt.”

Matt’s smile softened and he stepped into the hug, winding his arms around Keith’s back and holding him carefully, like he was a robot filled with the newest manufactured code.

“Stay safe, Keith,” he whispered. “Pidge needs you; she keeps talking about having a cryptid hunting partner when we all get back.”

Keith giggled, squeezing the older man and stepping back with a smile stretching beyond his cheeks up into his eyes.

“We’ll start with Mothman,” he decided. “But if you go missing on her again, I’m going to beat you back into cosmic dust.”

Matt threw back his head and laughed, yanking a package from his cloak and shoving it into Keith’s hands.

“Roger that, Shortie Black,” he teased, smile only growing when Keith’s mouth scrunched at the nickname. “Take care.”

Keith tucked the box under one arm and punched Matt’s arm, a lopsided smirk lilting awkwardly across his lips.

“Will do.”

Matt nodded, tossing the bag over his shoulder and heading up for the ship, eyes lingering on Allura’s slow entrance into the room. She was technically supposed to be waiting on the bridge to minimize the exertion of opening the wormholes, but even Coran knew that no force in the universe would be able to stop Allura from seeing her family off. It just wasn’t who she was.

Allura’s crystalline eyes darted up, locking with his own, and Matt’s steps froze on the ramp. Their silence seemed to drown out the room’s chatter around them, and Matt’s throat seized as he remembered the broken form of the woman before him just three and a half phoebs ago; crouched beside a cryopod containing her leader, arms pressing tightly into her stomach, eyes splintering from tears, Matt didn’t think he had ever wished to save someone so much. Now, curly hair splayed proudly over her shoulders, standing on her own feet after doing the impossible several times over, the Red Paladin of Voltron smiled at him like she could see every star he had reached for to get here.

“Matt,” came her voice, soft through the communicator. “Before you go, I must say thank you.”

Matt jerked the communicator from his pouch up to his ear, and Allura’s giggle when he nearly dropped it over the edge of the ramp was sweeter than any honey.

“You have done more for this team silently than almost anyone else, and I hope you know how grateful I am for it,” she said, voice just quiet enough that no one could overhear them. “I truly do not believe that any of us could have handled this so well without your support. Certainly, I could not have made it through the mission we had during the Kral Zera without you talking to me on the communicators.”

Matt chuckled, a quiet giggle flooding through Allura’s comm, and the twitch of her mouth warning him to stay quiet and allow her gratitude to wash over him. The least he could do was accept her feelings.

“Thank you for waiting for Lance and I after every diplomatic mission,” she whispered, the faintest hint of teardrops clinging to her voice. “The fact that you were there, that someone cared enough to stay awake with food and water for us, it meant quite a lot. To both of us. Thank you for all of that. Thank you for coming to our Castle. Thank you for being part of our—of my—family. It has been my honor and my pleasure.”

“Allura,” broke in Matt, grinning at the crystalline glow of her eyes and shifting the bag across his back. “Thank _you_. I…well, I appreciated that you believed in me. No matter what, you trusted me. So, when we get to Earth, come hang out with my family sometime. They’re your family too, okay? That’s not going to change when we get back. _We’re_ not going to change.”

Allura pressed two fingers to her forehead, extending them towards him, and Matt repeated the gesture. An Altean vow of fealty. He was no paladin, but anyone could be a knight. And he believed in Allura more than he did anyone else. Matt was proud to support her, to call himself her knight.

“Give Lance a hug for me,” he added, gulping back the fear searing at his vocal cords; this wasn’t the last time he would see her. “I’ll be back in a few dobashes.”

“I will,” promised Allura, flicking off the communicator and smiling to herself as Lance didn’t waste a tick jogging across the floor to his sister.

Keith trailed over to Hunk and Pidge and was immediately captured in the hugging demon’s clutches, pulling a stream of giggles from the cosmic siblings as they watched.

“It does not seem that he will be able to escape that for quite some time,” commented Allura, laughter riding beneath her words and shadows flickering in her eyes.

“Yeah, Hunk has zero chill when it comes to goodbyes,” snickered Lance. “Keith’s going to be stuck there for a while.”

Allura winced, eyes darting to the side and feet spreading into a wider stance. Lance’s smile withered, the full Altean replacing their usual mixture automatically. “Hey, what’s up, ‘Lura?”

Allura sighed, her hand slipping out and tangling fingers with Lance’s. Her eyes were still fixed on their friends, on Keith’s increased protests and Pidge’s cackles and Hunk’s wailing, all staples around the Castle of Lions. Her next sigh was heavier.

“When all of you have returned to your planet,” she murmured, swinging their intertwined hands slightly, fingers tight around Lance’s, “and your families, I cannot imagine a place for myself in any of your lives. Our own family…will it not fall apart? None of you will want anything to do with this war; any reminders will be painful. That will be what I am. A constant reminder of everything you all gave up to defeat Zarkon.”

Lance blinked. His fingers tightened around Allura’s and he twisted his head until their eyes were locked, crystalline on oceans.

Then he grinned and jerked his free arm up, the tattoo that bound them buried beneath his black armor.

“Not a chance!” Lance declared, laughter crinkling his Altean markings. “You guys are just as much my family as the people I left on Earth. I don’t let go of family easily. Plus,” he added, his eyes darting to her own arm, “you and I are siblings. The cosmos has spoken, ‘Lura! You cannot escape me!”

Allura’s breath stuttered, and Lance shoved her shoulder, giggles sparkling through the air between them. “This war has given a lot to me—to us all. I don’t have any regrets about, well, about any of it! I think coming up here helped all of us to settle into who we really are. I mean, look at them!” He added, jerking his head towards their teammates, smile growing impossibly brighter as Hunk trapped Pidge as well, Keith began snickering, and Pidge’s flailing fists “accidentally” smacked the Black Paladin in the arm. “Look at how far we’ve come! You know, I kinda love who we are now.”

Allura smiled.

“Yes, you were all quite the…the trainwreck of a team, when you first arrived,” she teased, the new word a little awkward on her tongue. “I was quite worried.”

“And look at us now!” Cheered Lance, squeezing their interlocked fingers twice. “We really are family, ‘Lura. We’re not going anywhere. Heck, I kinda just assumed you were going to stay with my family when we got back. I should check with Coran and Romelle to see if they’re comfy with that too; it might be a tight fit, but we should be able to manage!”

Allura jolted, snapping her head around to stare at Lance again, and his eyes sparkled mischievously in the hangar lights. He tilted his head, the silent question hovering between them, and Allura’s chest seized.

He still wanted her. He was inviting her to be part of his family. Not just because they were on the ship together, but because of who they had become on the ship together. Yalfan’s words trickled through her mind again, and she gulped at the constricting lump of unspeakable love in her throat. _Those who are bonded share a past, a present, and a future._

“Well,” she said, a slow smile spreading across her lips and curling up into her eyes. “I would very much like to meet our mother.”

Lance whooped, tackling her in a hug as his endless laughter echoed around the hangar. Allura’s arms flew around his back and she picked him up effortlessly, twirling the shorter boy around the room until his giggles turned to shrieks because _Allura, that’s too fast! I’m going to be dizzy!_

She was his sister, after all. Messing with him was part of the deal.

“‘Lura, you are pure evil,” groaned Lance as soon as his feet skittered back to the ground, stumbling over himself as his arms flailed.

Allura giggled, catching one of his fluttering hands and pulling him close. Her lips pressed against his forehead gently. Lance’s eyes widened, his free hand grasping hers and grounding himself as she held him gently, like a treasured artifact. Allura lingered a tick longer than was absolutely necessary, her kiss melting into a smile against his forehead.

“A kiss for good luck,” she whispered as she pulled back, a smile lighting up across her lips.

Lance’s breath hitched, light pooling in his eyes, and his hands tightened fiercely around Allura’s. She smiled, a quiet chuckle filling the air as she opened her arms and enveloped him in a hug. Unspoken promises lingered in the air, passing between the two effortlessly. They were siblings, after all. Some things didn’t need to be said.

“V vedal fxd,” murmured Lance, dropping a kiss to Allura’s hand. “Good luck, hermana.”

“Incondicionalmente,” replied Allura as the others began to make their way over. “I’ll see you soon, hermano.”

“Is everyone prepared for launch?” Called Allura, feet steady against the cockpit floor and Acxa holding onto the back of her chair; she could access the Castle’s stability from within her Lion as long as she was still inside the Castle of Lions.

“Totally set!” Chirped Pidge even as Matt tied himself to a safety bar behind her.

“Ready when you are,” replied Hunk, Yellow’s glow sharpening to flint in his eyes.

“Everything is in order,” called Lotor, Kuron’s pacing echoing through the comms.

“We’re good!” Squealed Romelle, and Lance grinned, not even bothering to peek at the monitor and confirm that she was snuggled close to a blushing Narti.

“Fully prepared, Princess,” came Zethrid’s gruff reply, though Ezor’s peal of giggles behind her completely destroyed the illusion of seriousness.

“Ready here, Allura,” winced Shiro, scowling at the already bickering duo of Adam and Krolia behind him; it looked like they were getting ready to hurl a couple of decidedly squishy blobs of multi-colored goo at one another.

“We’re all set,” promised Keith, snickering at his brother’s deepening frown and tightening his fingers around Lance’s.

“Yep!” Cheered Lance. “Let her rip, ‘Lura!”

Coran spun the last four dials and stomped on one particularly feisty button, finally spinning to flash a thumbs-up at Allura. Her smile curved slowly, as if fighting every other muscle on her face, and her crystalline eyes drifted closed.

Her fingers splayed as she extended her arms, brows forming a thundercloud and teeth catching at her bottom lip harshly. The air rippled around her, light seeping from beneath her skin and swirling in indistinguishable patterns over her ocean-blue sleeves. It skipped across her fingernails, curving and branching like it was sprouting into a coat of armor around Allura, burning across the room and sizzling at the controls.

Pidge leaned forward in her seat.

Hunk clutched the controls tighter.

Shiro locked his shoulders.

Lance held out his hand for Keith.

Keith laced his fingers with Lance’s and dropped them over Black’s joystick.

“Let’s do this, partner.”

The portals burst to life, exploding out in front of the Lions, and a collective roar boomed across the universe as each paladin threw their stick forward and blasted into the wormhole.

They were finally going home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I own nothing!


	12. Princesses of War

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith and Lance didn’t even need their psychic bond to slam down the joystick in unison. Their thoughts were one regardless of Black’s speed, regardless of over a phoeb of training their minds together, regardless even of their shared love. It was like their fingers linked around one another’s over the controls; this was pure instinct. They would protect the ones they loved, the ones who couldn’t save themselves. They were born to be paladins.

The Lions careened free of the wormhole, tails lashing and teeth bared as they descended towards the Galra vanguard advancing on their planet. The sharp contrast of green and blue shone like jewels beneath them, swirls of white spreading like wings about to take flight. Or like a barrier sending a warning to any invaders: stay back. _Do not touch._

Keith and Lance didn’t even need their psychic bond to slam down the joystick in unison. Their thoughts were one regardless of Black’s speed, regardless of over a phoeb of training their minds together, regardless even of their shared love. It was like their fingers linked around one another’s over the controls; this was pure instinct. They would protect the ones they loved, the ones who couldn’t save themselves. They were born to be paladins.

“Let’s go!” Roared Keith, wings blossoming behind Black, and a yellow glow seeping into their eyes.

“Everyone, spread out!” Shouted Lance, eyes darting around the battlefield. “The Mevucs will be here in about a varga; we have to hold the line until then! As soon as they’re in control, we dive! Not a single ship gets onto Earth, understand?”

There wasn’t even a tick of hesitation.

“ _ **Roger that!**_ ”

Lotor’s eyes flitted between the shrapnel-filled atmosphere in front of him that he was trying to zip through, and the bulky man fidgeting by his side. Now, Lotor was used to people standing next to him in ships; he just wasn’t used to them being so quiznaking _restless_. Acxa, Zethrid, Ezor, and occasionally Narti would often accompany him in his ship to either discuss something private or strategize or to conceal themselves depending on the prejudices of the sector they were flying through. Having the prince of the Galra Empire with oneself tended to…discourage locals from attack. Lotor was happy to provide whatever protection he could for his family of generals. No matter what, they were on his side, and he was on theirs. Nothing could ever change that. Not even the most beautiful space princess in existence.

Allura whipped the Red Lion’s head to the side, a faint brush sending the Lion skipping free of a barrage of lasers, and another directing a searing blast of magma through a line of enemy fighters. Crimson explosions rocked the black abyss around her, and glinting shards of metal whizzed past. Energy pulsed beneath her skin, wriggling as if trying to break free, and a faint pink glow was springing from her Altean marks. It felt right, like the power of the sun had all been gathered up, like it had replaced her blood without her noticing. It felt like a part of her.

Everything around her was crystal clear, the trails of ships vibrant to her eyes, the faintest twitch an obvious jerk towards where the fighter was going. The sounds were loud, but not overwhelming, each one unique and enunciated. Red was thrumming beneath her touch, attuned to the slightest suggestion, motions crisp and efficient. Her movements were easy, her mind free of clutter, her world nothing more than the fight surrounding her. It was as natural as breathing, as simple as counting, as intuitive as her love for the paladins fighting by her side.

She had nothing to be afraid of. It was like the entire cosmos had been forged into her soul, like a calming sea had seeped into her heart, like she had been handed all the time in the universe. Her paladin armor felt like robes, her helmet was a crown, her gauntlets were bracelets, her pilot seat was her throne. She knew she was flying well, she knew that Red was responding well, she knew that their teamwork felt better than she could ever have imagined. It was as if their quintessence had merged, had folded into armor around the two of them, had locked them into one being. And yet, somehow, this felt more free than Allura ever had by herself.

Allura swept across the sky, claws tearing through fighters and lasers forming glittering arcs of death through the enemy ships. Bursts of magma were spat out like pieces of a volcano, melting the cockpits into sticky masses of molten glass and black remnants of the sentries piloting them. A faint glitter from the nearest battleship fell into her field of vision, and Allura pounced. The Red Lion shot across the battlefield, head thrown back, and tail flaring like an incensed star towards the ion cannon aimed at the Blue Lion.

Lotor couldn’t imagine not falling in love with Allura; it was incomprehensible that everyone couldn’t see how vibrant, how brave, how sweet, how incredible this princess raised in peace and championing in war was. She was beyond his wildest dreams, she was powerful and intelligent and kind and endlessly determined. Allura was incomprehensibly dazzling not only in all she did, but in who she was. So, yes, Lotor was in love with her. He had been the moment she cast a smile his way, and he had only fallen deeper with each passing moment, each word, each glance. He hadn’t just meant that he wanted to sleep with her when he proposed a marriage between the two of them in captivity; he wanted her to know he was serious about a future together with her in his courtship.

Lotor had never fallen in love before. He had always felt the descriptions of it were preposterous, that it was impossible to get “lost in someone’s eyes” or to “brighten up just seeing them walk into a room” or to “know each beat of the heart was a love song for the other” or whatever other garbage he definitely hadn’t found because he definitely didn’t read romance novels to help him sleep. Nope, not at all. He hadn’t wondered for decaphoebs how it actually felt like; those fireworks that sprung from locked lips, the swooping stomach from a hug, the way the entire world brightened before one’s eyes when a loved one offered their hand. He hadn’t longed for that all of his life. For someone who would love him for all his flaws as well as strengths, for someone he would laugh with and give only the gentlest of kisses to and offer an arm to walk with them anywhere and everywhere. For someone he could give his heart to and receive theirs in return. Someone he could trust unconditionally. Someone he could truly love.

Lotor hadn’t been waiting for decaphoebs for that. He hadn’t thought he found it when Allura smiled at him, trust shining in her eyes, and said she would eventually go with him to Oriande. He hadn’t hoped that, through that trip, he could show her all that he was, all that he could be, and all that his heart had to offer. He hadn’t hoped that, by the end of that, he could take her hand and ask her permission for a kiss. That, someday, he would be on one knee in front of her with a ring in his hand. Allura hadn’t been his first love. She hadn’t been the one he hoped would be his last love.

Because, if she was, he wouldn’t know how to breathe when Acxa looked at Allura like she had made the entire world beautiful just by existing.

Allura spun through space, sending a corkscrew of blazing blue lasers around the blast of flames and right into the ion cannon fixing on the Blue Lion. She whipped by, not bothering to glance over her shoulder as the weapon detonated behind her like a dying star, black shrapnel outrun by the Red Lion. Could it be possible to meld with one’s Lion like Keith and Lance did? To reach a state with them such that she could feel their every movement, their strikes and rattling breaths and snapping jaw like it was her own? She was in control, the power glowing just beneath her fingertips, Red just as much an extension of Allura as she was her own being. The Lion was blistering, a fiery tornado, an endless spiral of power. And she was offering her paw to Allura, giving her the reins, trusting her with this might.

Somehow, without her noticing, Red’s mind had fused with her own. Allura chuckled, her fingers tightening over the controls, and a shaky smile painting relief across her face.

Maybe she really was a Red Paladin.

Acxa wasn’t just Lotor’s general or his friend; she was an integral piece of his world, was his dearest confidante, his family, his sister in all but blood. She was the first person to see him as more than his father’s son, the first to swear loyalty to him, the first to tell him to get off his high horse and ask for advice, the first to offer help, the first to trust him. She was the first person he had loved, even if he had never fallen in love with her, and she was the first to love him. Lotor and Acxa were inseparable, unbreakably bonded, pivotal cornerstones of each other’s lives. They had chosen each other as their family. He loved Ezor and Zethrid and Narti, and they loved him back, but everyone knew Lotor and Acxa were special. They were meant to be in each other’s lives.

Lotor had made a promise to himself the moment he saw her fighting off an army single-handedly to let other biracial children escape the Galra army, teeth bared and pupils manic with the flashing lights surrounding the battlefield. Her knuckles were bloody and broken, her battle cry hoarse, her strikes leaden and half-dead, but her eyes were blazing with a fierce life, with a screaming dare to anyone and everyone to try and snuff her out like she was nothing. She was unbeatable, a mixed-race peasant and a princess of war. And Lotor had promised himself as he disobeyed orders and pulled his father’s army out, as he swept the limp body off the field and to a hospital, as he held her hand while she recovered, and as she looked at him when she woke up like he was just another person like him instead of a monster, that he would grant this tiny being made of fire and stone a life of happiness. He would fight endlessly, throw himself into a line of lasers, drop all his shields, run himself into the ground if it meant Acxa got a future. He would build her safety from the ground up with his two bare hands if he had to. He would protect her, would defend her from a life of war, would raise his sword again and again if it meant, one day, she would be able to put hers down.

Lotor swore to himself that he would find Acxa a happily ever after.

Allura knew she was only one of four Red Paladins, counting her father, and she was hardly the most impressive. She was the last chosen, the final resort, the one who had struggled the most to master Red’s controls, the one who hadn’t found them intuitive. Allura had always assumed she would never truly be loved by Red the way a paladin should be. A paladin in technicality. A placeholder. A way to keep Voltron fully formed.

Red growled, curling around her like a protective mass of bristling red fur, a throb of affection rushing through the princess.

“ _Not true!_ ” Snarled the Lion. “ _Never true! You were not meant to be Keith’s second-in-command, it is true, but you were always my paladin! You are my kitten, and if you ever need me, I shall always be there to claw your enemies to shreds and burn their remains to ash! Once a Red Paladin, always a Red Paladin!_ ”

Allura felt the energy within her throb, a faint golden glow seeping into her eyes, and she finally recognized the sunshine burning just beneath her skin.

Love. Red loved Allura, and Allura loved Red. It was as simple as that. The true bond between a paladin and their Lion.

An unconditional, endless, unbreakable love that would last long after their death. It was etched in their quintessence, after all.

Lotor exhaled a concentrated stream of air and swung the ship around another ripped fighter craft. He had seen dreams floating in Acxa’s eyes as she gazed at Allura, fantasies she had always written off as impossible and beyond her reach, blessed illusions of joy and a peaceful, loving future. He had seen her light up when Allura glanced at her, had watched suns glow inside her smile, hadn’t missed the quiet words she had exchanged with the princess the moment she got the chance, or the way all tension and instinct to brace for the next hit had drained from her body when she stood by Allura’s side. Acxa trusted Allura. She believed in her. She loved her. She was willing to dream if Allura was in those dreams, was willing to wish if it was for more time with Allura, was willing to think about a future if Allura was there in it.

Allura was everything Lotor had ever wanted Acxa to have. And he saw how Allura had looked at Acxa, like she wanted to give her the entire universe and more, like she was everything Allura hadn’t even thought to dream of, like she was Allura’s future and home and hope and heart. And when their gazes met, it was like a cosmic light show. Like love itself had somehow been woven into a single look. Like two hearts beating in unison, like two melodies keeping time with each other, like a symphony made solely for each other.

Lotor could never want anything more for them than that. So he would smile and step back. He was fine returning to the wings of the stage, waiting for a love that would someday sweep him off his feet when he swept them off theirs, a partner who would blow his mind with their very being and nothing else. Someone he could make happy and who could make him happy. He was okay waiting again. Acxa and Allura’s love—their happiness—was worth it.

“Prince Lotor?”

Oh, he had forgotten Kuron was there. Whoops.

“Yes?”

Allura sat bolt upright in her seat, a searing prickle streaking down her side, and her eyes ripping across the battlefield. She had not felt such a corrupted, devolved, twisted presence since she had last fought Haggar, and the witch was not supposed to be here yet. What had she sent along with this vanguard? And, more importantly, _where was it?_

Allura spun, eyes trailing fire across the sky, and her stomach wove itself into that weird sailor’s knot made out of Pidge’s socks once after she pounced on him from the air ducts. Except one made out of titanium.

Where was it? And, even more importantly, _why was it getting stronger?_

“I’m sorry to draw you from your reverie,” apologized Kuron, a thin line pressed into his forehead. “But I have some apprehensions about scanning the cloning facility right now.”

Lotor’s chin snapped up, his eyes sliding over to apprise the clone who had thrown the ship into such disarray around the time of his Kral Zera. He would never forget the rage that had exploded in the princess’ gaze when this man screamed at one of the current Black Paladins. It had been painful just to witness.

“And what would those concerns be?” He asked slowly, fingers tapping against his controls and chin rising slightly. “I have my own that you are only raising them now.”

Kuron’s lips tightened, his fingers drumming against his knee, and Lotor’s stomach lurched as his gaze slid up to the clone’s eyes. They were wide and glistening, an agonized warmth splitting at the grey irises, his eyebrows curving like dented moons. He looked like someone was clawing his heart to shreds. Like he was losing his home.

Lotor knew that look better than he could ever bring himself to admit.

“What is it?” He asked, softening his tone and brushing his fingers over Kuron’s shoulder. “I’m sorry I sounded so harsh; I’m listening, Kuron. What is the matter?”

Kuron’s teeth caught on his lip, his eyes flitting to the ground and shoulder rippling at the force of building a wall to barricade the flood of tears trying to escape. Altea, but Lotor knew that feeling. He had seen it so many times written across his generals’ faces, and it never got any less heartbreaking somehow.

“I’m sorry. I can’t……!” Kuron’s voice broke, fractured as if a fragment of his heart had gotten lodged in his throat. “I can’t just leave them behind.”

Allura swung the Red Lion around, her eyes streaking across the stars as if they would contain the answers, her throat swelling and the sunshine beneath her skin beginning to burn. Where was the threat? Where was the danger? How close was it to her team, to her family? How much of a threat was it? Should she call for them to form Voltron? Where was it? Where was it, where was it, _where was it where was it where was it wherewasitwherewasitwherewasitwhe—?!_

“Allura!” Cried Acxa, her cool hand softening the fire beneath Allura’s skin and her one pointed finger guiding Allura’s gaze away from the swirling, bright, shifting, screaming battlefield. “That cannon! Have you ever seen black electricity like that before?”

The tick Allura’s eyes lighted on the black, twisting, roiling quintessence, her entire body jerked forward, convulsing from sheer proximity to the tampered energy. Her nails dug into her palms, air ripping its way into her lungs, and Red let out a snarl within her mind.

Acxa moved like lightning. She vanished from behind Allura’s chair, reappearing between Allura and the quintessence in a crouch. She reached up slowly, making sure Allura could see the motion, and craded one of the princess’ hands delicately, nudging her nails free of her calloused palm. She locked her eyes on Allura’s, her free hand settling on the princess’ knee and squeezing out a slow, guiding rhythm. Then, very gently, she smiled.

“Allura,” she called softly. “It can’t touch you. It’s not here, okay? It’s okay.”

Allura slid out of the chair, curling into Acxa and clinging to the general as she grasped at any trace of breathing, the tendrils of experimented quintessence still twisting in front of her when she closed her eyes. It felt like it had just reached out and electrocuted her, like her own aura had been strong enough to touch it with only a glance and had paid the price for that power. With the Red Lion fused to her, that wasn’t impossible. And now she couldn’t breathe, she couldn’t stop shaking, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t breathe, _couldn’t breathe—_

Soft fingers tugged her helmet free, and Acxa’s steady, consistent voice whispered just beside her.

“Paladins, there is some sort of quintessence cannon on the third battleship from the Red Lion. I am unsure as to how, but it has had a very negative affect on Allura, and she cannot currently pilot. Do not worry,” Acxa’s voice became slightly slower, more enunciated, louder so even Allura’s frenzied mind could catch her words, “she is not in danger. The Red Lion and I will protect her. You all must focus on destroying that cannon.”

Allura could practically feel Lance’s panic radiating through his reply, but it was still soothing somehow to hear her brother’s voice.

“I—wait, what’s going on with Allura? Does she need help? Can she talk?”

“Allura cannot talk right now, but she will be able to soon, I will be sure of it. I promise, I shall be sure she is okay. I do not know what is happening, but I do not care,” stated Acxa, her eyes still on Allura and a smile perched reassuringly on her lips. “I will be sure she gets all the help she needs. I will not let your sister down.”

Lance’s inhale hissed through the comms, and Keith’s faint whisper reverberated as only a hum.

“Okay. We’ve got that cannon. Allura, if you can hear me, sit tight; you’re going to be just fine. Acxa,” Lance’s voice shuddered, as if his heart had just been punched within his chest, “you had better take good care of my sister. If you don’t, I swear you won’t live to see another sunset, alliance be shot. Clear?”

“As crystals,” promised Acxa. “I will protect her.”

“Then we’ve got the cannon,” replied Keith, a faint growl rumbling beneath his words, and Allura’s breath came just a little easier at the sound of his voice. “Hunk, help provide cover for the Red Lion. Shiro, Pidge, keep everyone’s focus on you.”

“Got it!”

“Roger that!”

“On it!”

As each voice crackled through the comm, Allura felt her throat loosen, her lungs relax, her shaking subside even just a little. Her family was here. They still had her back. Everything was going to be okay.

Lotor cocked his head to the side, his other eyebrow rising to join the already arched one. This time, though, there was no skepticism in the movement. He may not have appreciated the clone’s actions in the past, but when someone had seen enough to make the same face as any of his generals, he couldn’t feel anything but empathy and care towards them.

“I’m not sure I quite comprehend,” he murmured. “Leave who behind?”

Kuron sucked in a fractured breath, his shoulders still trembling beneath Lotor’s touch, and he raised water-stained eyes already beginning to crack.

“I can’t just leave Lance and Pidge and Hunk and Allura and Keith and…Shiro to see this through themselves. I can’t just abandon them when they’re so close, when they’re nearly home. I can’t just run out at the end; I have to see this through with them. I don’t know if this is because I’m Shiro’s clone or not, but…but I’d like to think it’s not.”

Kuron breathed in deeply, shoulders bunching and releasing along with Lotor’s heart at the gesture. “I’d like to think it’s because I listened to Lance talk for hours about his niece and nephew, about how Nadia always won pillow fights because she turned the entire house into a war zone, about how Sylvio is the best soprano in his school, about the way their noses scrunch when you boop them and the way they always look for something beautiful in the world even if it’s actively attacking them. I’d like to think it’s because I sat by Pidge so many nights and heard her describe her dreams about working for the Galaxy Garrison, about exactly what progression she wants to go through, the fields she most wants to contribute to, the ways she thinks alien and human tech can learn from each other to make a better world. I’d like to think it’s because I would go to the kitchen just to hear Hunk talk about the recipes he’s best at with Earth ingredients, the way his little siblings called him Big Bear whenever he swept them up into his arms and let out this particular booming laugh that no one else in the family could really pull off, the sparkle in his Tina’s eyes and the soft hugs his mom always gave him when he came home from school.”

Acxa swept Allura’s hair free of her face, carefully settling the helmet on her own head at an angle so only the general could hear the words coming through. Then she wrapped her arms around the trembling paladin and pulled her close, running one hand up and down the princess’ back in time with her own breathing. Allura’s strangled hyperventilation had lessened, leaving jagged, stilting breaths as if there was a forest of broken glass in her throat clawing the air itself apart. Acxa tucked herself around the woman who held herself up as a mountain in the face of the world, who stood before each meeting with the guise of perfection, who did it all because she had a heart of gold and wanted nothing more than peace and joy for her family. She cradled the one who had lost so much and still had the power to give away her heart to those around her, her strength to what had seemed like a lost cause at the beginning, her love to strangers if it would turn them into a family.

“Hey, whatever that thing is, it’s charging up really fast you guys!”

“We’re almost there! Hunk, does Allura have that cover?”

“We’re in position, don’t worry!”

Allura was stronger than anyone Acxa had ever met, but not because she was a psychotically amazing warrior attuned to even the faintest change on the battlefield. Allura was powerful because, in spite of everything, she stood up and offered hope to people she couldn’t see and didn’t know, offered them a future, offered them love. Allura would fight, would negotiate, would work tirelessly, and when all chances seemed gone, she would invent new ones if it meant the universe was safe. Her love was boundless and gentle and unbreakable. And Acxa would protect that. She swore it on her life.

“I…think it’s because I’ve seen it with my own two eyes. Because I know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that those kids love Earth. I want them to be happy. Even if I wasn’t Shiro’s clone, even if I didn’t know because of him that Mrs. Shirogane made Keith happier than any woman ever, that he wants to go back to her, and that he loves long bike rides at sunset, racing over the desert by m—by Shiro’s side, I would want him to be happy. I want them all to be happy. And I want to see this war through with those kids. I want to help get them back to that happiness.”

Acxa ran her free fingers through Allura’s hair, gently untangling it and humming under her breath as the princess’ tremors began to lessen. Acxa was pretty sure that was solely because she didn’t have her helmet on right then.

“Uh…guys, I don’t think it’s pointing at me anymore.”

“Keith! Lance! The cannon just switched directions, it’s aiming directly at you!”

“Here goes nothing!”

“What are you—?”

“Let’s try that phasing thing again, Keith! Just you and I!” Shouted Lance, gritting his teeth even as his eyes blazed an electric blue. “We just have to slash the controls!”

“Shiro, can you back us up?”

“You’ve got it!”

Acxa’s eyes flickered to the window, her heart seizing as if someone had laced it with wires, and all her breath drained from her body. The cannon had a massive ball of black, crackling quintessence lightning, easily twice as tall as a human, aiming straight at the Lion rocketing towards it.

Except, not quite.

Except it was shifting, turning, gears shifting as if preparing to snap to the side. Away from the comparatively small Black Lion rocketing toward the cannon, and down……down?

“I should be back there, fighting alongside them, not out here going through an old cloning facility,” said Kuron softly. “Even if they don’t want to see me…I don’t think I’ll ever stop caring about them, especially Lance, Pidge, and Hunk. I don’t think there will ever be a time I don’t want to protect them.”

The Black Lion zipped up, and Keith’s fingers tightened over Lance’s. He twisted to the side, eyes flickering over Lance’s glinting irises, his bladed smile, his chin raised as if embracing the adrenaline. He turned his fear into power. He always had. Keith just swallowed.

Lance turned, grin blinding, and nudged Keith’s shoulder with his own.

“Here we go, Samurai!” He teased. “You ready to go all ghosty ninja on them? Shoot, we should have made some shurikan and kunai for this! When we get back to Earth, I am soooooo saving up to buy you a Konoha headband and make you cosplay as Sasuke! Oh god, your sword is perfect.”

Keith snorted, relaxed his grip on Lance, and blew out a breath. Then he faced front, cracked his shoulders, and sat up straighter. He was a Paladin of the Black Lion, Lance’s co-pilot, Shiro’s brother, and a proud member of the Voltron Family. It was okay. He had nothing to be afraid of.

“Let’s do it!” Shouted Keith, snapping the joystick forward, and Lance grinned.

Then the cannon spun and fired.

Acxa screamed a warning as the bolt streaked down towards their beloved planet, Allura going rigid in her lap, and Keith felt Lance’s heart stop.

_No._

Lotor’s heart knocked against his ribs as if trying to punch him, his eyes flickering with memories of the Kral Zera he would be happier burying. Of Acxa raising her gun with blood running down half her face, of Narti imbedded in the wall from a single punch, of Ezor’s nose so clearly broken even as she headbutted another opponent, of Zethrid slammed against the floor with a sickening crack and a scream. And it had been his job to walk up those stairs instead of protecting his friends—his family. He had never hated himself more in his entire life, each step agonizing until he was able to grab that sword.

He had been able to end that battle because he stayed away. Kuron couldn’t.

“Let’s move!” Screamed Lance, jerking the stick to the side and sending the Black Lion into a headlong dive towards the blue waters below. “We can’t let that hit Earth!”

“What are you two going to do?!”

“We’re not letting that go through!” Shouted Keith, throwing his own weight behind the joystick, a thunderstorm raging on his brow. “So, unless someone’s got a superpowered shield or the Castle can pull around fast enough to hit that, you know what we have to do!”

“Why are you two always like this?!” Screeched Pidge. “You’re going to die! Don’t you dare try and tank that shot!”

“We don’t have a choice!” Snarled Lance, smacking the video screen shut and clenching his eyes shut. “It’s okay. Look guys, we’re Paladins of Voltron. We can make this work; Earth can’t! We have to give everybody down there their best chance!”

“Okay,” decided Lotor, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “Let’s go back, then.”

“Oh Altea, you two,” groaned Allura, snatching the helmet from Acxa (apparently that hadn’t been quite as well-angled as Acxa had thought, whoops) and pulling it over her own head. “Lan, that’s nothing like the quintessence lightning we faced—”

“Allura, it’s okay,” stated Keith. “We’ve dealt with worse. We can survive. Earth—”

“It’s squishy, I know,” replied Allura with a sigh, shaking her head as she slipped one hand into Acxa’s and clung to it as if that could pull up a barrier around those she loved and protect them. “I’m just saying, be careful, okay?”

Allura closed her eyes and exhaled, pulling up her memories of Lance curled around her like a protective cat, his words soft beside her ear. _We’ve made it this far with less planning, after all. Leaping right in and just making it work is, like, the core tenant of Voltron!_

Lance was her brother. If she couldn’t believe in him, who was she supposed to trust?

“You can do this,” stated Allura, raising her chin and facing the window with suns blazing in her eyes as the Black Lion dove past the shot, pivoting in midair and bounding to intercept the curving electricity. “I believe in both of you. You’ve beat the odds before, and I know you will again.”

Acxa stared, her breath frozen, and Allura swallowed back the tears threatening to fill up her irises. She had seen Lance and Keith pull off the impossible, she had watched Voltron grow from nothing to the strongest warrior in the universe; she had no reason to be afraid. “Blow that shot back into the cannon and come back to us, okay?”

The lightning split through space, tearing down towards the glittering planet, and a comparatively tiny Lion screeching to a stop between the attack and their home. Black raised their haunches, threw their head back, and let out a blazing roar as the lightning bore down on them. Lance smiled, fingers locked around Keith’s, and the two raised their chins to meet the stream head-on. He exhaled slowly, and then grinned as if he was just heading to the beach instead of into a death ray of twisted, corrupted quintessence lightning. He had his family right here with him. He wasn’t afraid.

“Roger that, sis.”

Kuron smiled, his eyes lighting up like stars, and Lotor felt all the tension drain from the clo—the man’s shoulders beneath his fingers.

“Thank you,” he breathed. “Thank you so much.”

Acxa pulled Allura closer, clinging to the princess as lightning struck the Black Lion and Allura’s jaw went rigid.

“They’ll be okay,” she breathed. “They’re strong, Allura. It’s going to be okay.”

Lightning arced around the Lion’s shell, Keith and Lance’s roars echoing through the comms. The metal seemed to absorb the attack, the beam glowing brighter as if in rage, and the Lion let out a deafening bellow.

Allura covered Acxa’s hand with her own and let out a long, slow exhale.

“I know.”

Acxa squeezed her hand, and Allura curled into the embrace, the faintest tremor rocking through her shoulders and hands clenching as if that would hold back a scream. Her stomach plummeted.

It was going to be okay, everything would be fine, they had done this before, and she believed in them, Allura believed in them, _she always had and always would believe in Lance and Keith, even if the world was ending, even if everything else was crumbling around her…_

Keith didn’t lower his chin.

Lance didn’t close his eyes.

_…Allura would believe in those two._

Lance and Keith’s fingers locked tightly around each other’s and, through their roars, they felt a faint tug at their bond. The astral plane swirled around them, the Black Lion crouching beside them with fur standing on end and eyes glowing brighter than any gold. Keith pulled out his bayard, Lance snapping his rifle into position, and the two stood guard. Waiting.

It was only a matter of time.

Lotor spun the craft in a circle, cutting it tight around a glistening piece of black shrapnel that, obviously, he had seen. Of course. Beyond a doubt.

The lightning fizzed, the last of it curling around the Black Lion like a claw trying to rend the beast and their paladins apart limb-from-limb. Allura’s throat burned, every muscle in her body taut like metal stretched to its breaking point, her eyes still glowing with more than the light of the ship. Acxa cradled her in her arms, one hand siding through her hair, and lip nearly bleeding between her teeth.

“Come on, you two,” murmured Acxa as Allura began to shake again. “Come on, come on, come on.”

Keith raised his sword, Lance propping his gun up and opening his eyes wider, the last few seconds ticking by for his vision to fine-tune itself. Even though it was bright out, Lance had spent the better part of his training over the past week trying to use his light-seeking adjustments to his eyes in a brighter setting as well. It made picking out details, such as the beginnings of an attack, much easier. He inhaled slowly, and flexed his finger on the trigger. Keith grinned.

The lightning crackled out.

Black let out a shrieking roar, golden glow going blinding and tendrils of electricity springing forth from the Lion’s eyes. They arched their head, their howl splitting the astral plane, and barely eclipsing Lance’s agonized scream as the light flooded his eyes. Keith lunged, yanking his partner back and raising an arm as lightning sprung towards the two of them. He pulled Lance behind him and raised his shield.

A faint smile tilted up at his lips, stretching up into his irises, and light flooded them.

The Black Lion hung listless.

The comms remained silent, but Allura could feel everyone’s presence. Pidge, holding her breath and with her ear jammed against the comm, frantic to pick up any hint that her brothers were alive. Hunk, teeth gritted tightly and eyes blown wide as his lungs worked overtime to keep him breathing. Shiro, motionless, Adam’s hand clenched in his own, tears glistening behind his closed eyes. She couldn’t sense Lance or Keith.

The comms stayed silent.

“Let’s get back to them, then,” said Lotor, a smile tugging at the corner of his lip in response to the man’s obvious relief. “Can’t keep your people waiting, now can we?”

“Ouch, ugh, my freaking eyes, that was a close one!” Complained Lance, and Acxa nearly cried in relief as Allura slackened in her grasp. “Hokay, vision’s still not doing too hot. Keith, you good?”

“Hnnnnnnnnngh. You?”

Allura pressed a hand to her chest, a smile pricking at her mouth, and she let out a long, slow exhale.

“Thank Altea. Are you two o—?”

_**CRASH.**_

Allura felt ice spread through her veins as the comm nearly vibrated off her head at the force of the collision, and her heart stopped at Lance’s scream. _No._

“No,” agreed Kuron, chin lifting up and the glow of a lion seeping into his eyes. “No, we can’t. I won’t let them down this time.”

“Keith? Keith, I still can’t see, what’s going on?! Keith, buddy, my man, you’ve got to talk to me. Keith? Keith?!”

“……”

_No. She couldn’t have gotten this wrong. Not when so much was on the line, not when her brothers lives were at stake, **no.**_

“…Keith?”

_Nononononononononononononononono—_

“Keith?! Keith, where are you?! Black, what’s going on?”

Allura crumpled in Acxa’s arms, hands coming up to cover her face, and her heart froze inside her chest. This was worse than any of her nightmares.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I own nothing!


	13. A Born Paladin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance couldn’t say it was a great day when his only basis for believing that some intruder hadn’t just stabbed his boyfriend through the back was that he himself had yet to be killed, but it was hardly the worst. He hadn’t been stabbed yet, after all.

Lance couldn’t say it was a great day when his only basis for believing that some intruder hadn’t just stabbed his boyfriend through the back was that he himself had yet to be killed, but it was hardly the worst. He hadn’t been stabbed yet, after all.

“Keith?!” Shouted Lance, blinking furiously as he grasped around, seeking that familiar, comforting warmth of his boyfriend; a hand, an arm, a shoulder, anything to show that Keith was _alive_. “Keith, where are you?! Black, what’s going on?”

Black let out a low groan, a faint creak resounding through the cabin, and Lance could practically feel the electrical currents burning through his beloved Lion. His heart felt like someone had just hammered nails through it.

“Lance? Is Keith okay?!” Yelled Shiro, Adam’s hand too warm against his shoulder and Krolia’s eyes beginning to glow behind him as the Blue Lion let out a howl.

“Lance? What is going on? Why can you not see?” Called Allura, unshed tears dripping from her words, and Lance winced at the raw agony flecked in each tone.

She had told him and Pidge how terrified she was to lose her family in these battles, he had seen himself that her greatest fear was not being able to protect her loved ones, being forced to stand by and watch them die. And he had nearly just brought her nightmares into reality. Another nail dug into his heart, a bit of blood seeping free, and Lance felt it burn in his chest.

“Lance?!”

He swallowed and closed his eyes, exhaling slowly and straightening his back, chin raised and quintessence throbbing as if it had just been punched.

“We got yanked into the astral plane, and some sort of light hit me when I had my eyes in night vision,” he explained. “I don’t know what happened after that. I think Keith pulled me back from something, but I couldn’t, well, see what it was.”

Allura sighed, rubbing her temples, and leaning back into Acxa as her tremors eased. Without that weird electricity humming through space, she felt like she could actually breathe again, and she was absolutely going to use that to throw all her air against the enemy.

“That lightning alters quintessence,” she warned, Acxa’s fingers soft through her curls, as if chasing away the demons lying in wait across the battlefield and the fact that she had _so completely failed_ to protect her family from them. “It is incredibly dangerous, and attacks its targets in the astral plane for their quintessence. I am guessing it has latched onto the Black Lion and Keith for now; he must have shielded you from the lightning. Had it struck Earth, everyone would have had their quintessence drained within ticks.”

Allura sighed, threading her fingers with Acxa and letting out a puff of air. “You both did well to stop that.”

Lance slammed his eyes shut hard enough to see stars, his throat bursting and fingers digging into his hair. His head jerked back into the headrest, and tears blossomed that had nothing to do with the pain. Because _of course_ Keith got hurt protecting him, _of course_ his stupid mullet brain would just go _Oooh, you know what sounds fun? Getting electrocuted!_ and let Lance’s partner, his soulmate, his _future_ dive in front of that shot to protect him. Because Lance would have done the same for Keith, had before, and they both knew it. It had always been who they were: a battlefield couple ready and willing to lay down their lives to protect the other. And Lance couldn’t be mad, couldn’t even get angry at Keith for it _because he understood that feeling of wanting to protect the love of your life so painfully clearly—_

“‘Lura, is there some way for me to use my quintessence to help him?” He croaked. “I mean, we both have Red and Black’s, so I might be able to link up to his and help fight off the lightning, right?”

Allura bit her bottom lip, flipping the idea around in her head like a pancake, and Lance pressed the heels of his palms into his eyes. He swore, he was going to get his sight back faster this time, like quiznak physics got any say in this!

“Not without a Lion to get you into the astral plane,” said Allura slowly. “But you make a good point that having matching quintessences might help with that process……Destroying the cannon would release Keith from the astral plane, but he would have to hold out on his own until then.”

“Are there any lasting effects?” Asked Adam, bending down. “Will Keith recover fully?”

“If he makes it out, he’ll be just fine,” promised Allura. “There shouldn’t be any side effects; we had a less…corrupted version of this back on Altea. It was originally used for medical purposes, actually. Hunk, would you have any objections to continuing to guard my Lion?”

Hunk’s eyebrow arched, fingers tapping against his controls as Allura forced herself up from the floor. Acxa rose, arms steadying the princess’ shoulders as she dragged a hitching breath into her lungs.

“Uh, not particularly, why?” He answered.

“I also have the Red Lion’s quintessence,” she explained. “Red and I are currently closer than ever; I believe she will be able to send me to Keith’s side and assist him in fighting off this lightning. If nothing else, I can explain to him what is happening.”

Lance blew out a short breath, popping his eyes open and shaking out his arms, seizing at air with the closest thing to a rhythm he could get.

“Okay. Okay, okay, okay. You know what? Let’s do it. Allura, you tell the Mullet what’s going on and keep him from getting zapped to death. I’ve got that cannon. The stupid thing has to recharge; I don’t.”

“Lance, let one of us handle it!” Shouted Pidge, the shriek of lasers tearing through her comm, and her glasses glinting in the flash of ion blasts. “You take care of Keith! One of us can—”

“I can’t protect Keith inside here!” Snapped Lance, jerking out of his seat and sweeping his gaze over the blurry cabin. “Black can’t move! Pidge, I need you to guard our Lion. Shiro, break off from guarding Allura and go on the attack; we need someone providing a distraction. Allura, you’ve got my idiot boyfriend. I have the cannon.”

“How do you intend to do that?!” Yelled Pidge, veering away from a fighter and chomping it to pieces. “You need a plan, Lance! Even just ion cannons usually have a barrier over them; this is going to be a really strong one!”

Allura shuddered in Acxa’s arms, and the general curled around her, chin propped atop her head and a faint hum vibrating through her body. Lance carefully settled Keith back in his chair, letting one arm stay in his lap while the other lay atop the armrest. The moron had torn one of his shoulders phoebs ago and kept fighting with it, never giving it the chance to fully heal (Lance had scolded him for three vargas for that one), so he preferred for that one to be kept limp. Lance shook his head and rolled his eyes twice just to get his point across to the unconscious lump of boyfriend in front of him.

Nope, never mind, he could definitely be mad at Keith for this one.

“The back of these cannons have that glass conductor at the back, remember?” Called Lance, cupping Keith’s cheek and running a thumb over his lasilh softly. “I’m going to go in and shatter that. Without it, the lightning can’t get through. As for the barrier, my bayard and the star surfer thingies we’ve got back here should do the trick!”

“YOU CAN RIDE THOSE THINGS?!” Shrieked Hunk, and Adam’s booming laugh rocked the microphone.

“Of course he can, this is Lance after all!” He replied, a grin creeping up the edge of his lips. “He can ride anything.”

Lance smiled, the unspoken memory flowing between the two of them, and he slowly pulled his hand back from Keith’s face.

“I’ll be back soon,” he promised. “Kick butt in the astral plane, buddy. I’ll get you out of there.”

“Do you think it’s something I could figure out how to ride or hack into flying?” Asked Matt, peering into the video feed, one of his eyebrows rising. “I think Lance could do with some backup.”

“Yeah, no,” replied Hunk with a snort. “Keith and Shiro can’t work with those things to save their lives, so um, probably not on the flying part? And they’re not based on electricity, so a solid no to the hacking element.”

Matt flopped over onto a box and let out a disconcertingly high-pitched whine in response.

“But I’m booooooooooooooored!” He complained, and Pidge rolled her eyes nearly out of her head.

“Then get over here and help me with the camouflage feature!” She shot back. “Lance, I swear if you die, I will find a way to get into hell solely to beat you up!!”

Lance snorted, kicking the star surfer out onto the loading dock.

“ _You_ don’t need to look for a way to get into hell!” He teased, saluting over his shoulder. “But, roger that, Captain Pidgey! This is your sharpshooter Lance, out!”

The comms clicked off automatically, and Lance inhaled long and slow. He could practically feel Nadia and Sylvio clinging to his back, feet kicking and eyes glistening under the sun as they begged for _just one ride with Papi, pleeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaaseeeeeee? PLEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAASSSSSSSSSSSEEEEEEEEEEEE?_ Lance snickered. They were his kids through and through; they loved the thrill of the flight, the wind streaking through their hair, the way they had to cling to Lance like their lives depended on it. As if Lance would ever pull a trick that put them in danger.

He did those moves solo.

Broken claws snapped over his feet, trying to glue him to the board, and a rope attached to one whipped into his hand. Lance grinned, shimmying it over his head and twisting it around his waist; it was the only change he would concede to when flying through the vacuum of space instead of the streets of Varadero. Little else had changed since he had first managed to save enough to buy a hoversurfer. See, his family could barely manage to find time to get out to the beach after Nadia and Sylvio started attending school, but Lance still had the thing lying around. Sooooooooooo…

Lance fastened his helmet securely over his head and slid his feet into the boot slots, a wicked grin splitting his face.

“¡Bien, Ronny,” he said, as though the board or the sister it was named after could hear him talk, eyes glinting like fire off a blade, “levantemos un poco de infierno!”

“How’d you know Lance could fly those things?” Asked Shiro, glancing back at Adam as a crinkle rippled through his brow. “I’ve never even seen him practicing with one.”

Adam snorted, lacing his fingers behind his head and leaning back against the wall. His eyes played with the ceiling, tracing panel lines, a smile toying at the edges of his lips. How could he not know?

“Lance always dragged me on his psycho flying escapades,” he replied, dropping his hands to his pockets and settling more comfortably against the searingly cold metal of the wall. “Up here…and back on Earth too. If you think what you’re about to see is impressive, imagine him pulling off those moves with gravity in a city while chasing a Garrison spy on a hoverbike at age twelve just because the dirtbag swiped your wallet, and then you’ll understand what my recruitment day was like.”

Shiro grinned, leaning back in the pilot seat and firing off an ice beam at the nearest battleship before pouncing on a fighter targeting the listless Black Lion. Where was Lance?

“I thought I recognized the name when Keith told me about him that first day,” he admitted. “But I wasn’t sure. Memory got more than a bit rusty, you know.”

Adam smirked, tipping his head back to rest against the metal, and exhaling a long, slow, breath. He could still see it when he closed his eyes: a scrawny twelve-year-old Cuban boy with scratches littering his body, a huge grin speckled with missing teeth, and just the tip of his hair on fire, holding up the flimsy black wallet as if he had just saved the world while police sirens flashed behind him and metal creaked. Lance’s eyes were too wide, dust and dirt streaking his cheeks, and the sharpness of their blue was like a shard of crystal, fizzing with barely contained bolts of lightning. Of an icy power.

“You never had much memory to begin with.”

“Hey!”

The bay doors snapped open, and Lance kicked the engine into high gear, tearing free of the metal confines of the Lion and out into the vast expanse of space littered with lasers, battleships, rubble, and the stray comet, ice, root, or magma beam. Lance snickered. Best jungle gym ever.

His heels rose, weight tilting forward, and fingers spreading as if to catch the water off a wave; an instinct he had never shaken despite not seeing the ocean in four years now. The board tilted to the side, skimming a wide curve, and Lance sank low to dodge a bit of melting ice, the speed building beneath his feet like a glowing ball of energy pulsing with the heart of his city.

Lance grinned, his eyes glittering and the streets of his childhood rising up around him. The fighter ships morphed, melting out of space and into his Varadero where his mom’s friends’ shops stood. The stray wires still sending up sparks were the lines dripping with laundry strung up between windows, the battleships were the apartment buildings he used to catapult his board off of, the scraps of the totalled crafts were the cars he played trampoline on while soaring through the streets. He could practically hear his friends hollering as one of the fighter ships spun beneath his feet, Lance’s board scraping over the cockpit and swirling like oil coming to a simmer, his arms shooting out as he unleashed the speed just in time to streak up the curved edge of the ship and flip clean over the ship. His lips tugged up into a smirk; this was his domain.

Lance’s blaster snapped into his grasp, settling against his shoulder as he powered away, and he fired off two shots with only a glance before speeding clear of the battlefield. The two lasers collided, ricocheting off each other. One streaked down, splitting through the fighter’s left gun, and the other curved around to the back of the ship and blasted through the engine. Lance flipped the board up, transforming it into a shield for a split tick as the fighter lit up the sky in a searing explosion.

Pidge’s glasses caught the light of the detonation, her head snapping to the side as the flames roared out like a hungry beast, consuming her brother in a flash of red and gold. Her fingers turned into metal around her controls, and Matt dashed for the window, amber eyes wider than the flowering fire bursting just outside. His hands slammed into the window, and Pidge’s heart crashed into her ribs, her feet spreading a little against Green’s floor. Her Lion rumbled softly.

Lance rocketed free of the flames, a whoop tearing from his lips as fire boiled beneath the board and his knees bent at the force of the blast, twisting his motion into spirals. Pidge grinned, and Lance tilted his weight to the right, engines blazing beneath his feet as he harnessed the firepower in a shrieking ascent towards the battleship crackling with black lightning. He blasted shrapnel clear of his path, blue sizzling as he swooped by, and Lance’s eyes swept the field in front of him. His smirk widened at the three battleships bearing down on him and the two fighters coming up on either side, digging his feet into the board and opening his hand to allow his gun to disappear in a shower of sparkles. Matt’s eyebrows split his forehead.

Lance sank low on his board, leaning forward and tightening the rope around his waist. The lasers on the fighter ships glowed on either side of him, and one of the battleships’ ion cannon began to charge. Lance blew out his breath and closed his eyes. It was like a slightly deadlier version of that one alleyway with glass bottles littering every corner of the pavement. If he could catch a thief on a hoverbike in Varadero, he could blow up this superpowered, enchanted ion cannon in space. After all, it was really only a little more chaotic.

The engines pulsed beneath him, and Lance snapped open irises crackling with lightning as his smirk eclipsed any sun, and the lasers exploded out towards him.

Lance twisted in midair, arms tucked close to his chest and board spinning into a thin crescent between the purple bolts, like a bow pulled taut with his eyes for arrows. He tipped his ankles slightly, eyes piercing down as flight paths arced before his irises and tinted them with the edge of a star on the verge of a supernova. Space opened up around him, a vast abyss of darkness, so much room for him to spread out his wings, for him to soar higher than anyone had ever expected. It felt like the sky over Varadero. As if the lasers were just the fragments of glass that were always rife on his path. Like if he just timed it right…

The board wobbled at the energy leaking off the lasers, the nosing inching to the right.

Lance slammed his heel down hard on the board, catapulting narrowly over the fighter’s second laser as a smirk split his face and the engines flared to life behind him. He shot free of the firefight blazing behind him, tearing past the fighter ships as they unleashed a stream of lasers into one another, a few stray shots glancing off the battleship. Adam snickered, raising a chin as his eyes flashed with a pride hardly less sharp than the broadsword that flashed into Lance’s waiting hand.

He dove to the side, pinwheeling like a chakram away from the battleships’ onslaught as the lasers shredded the remains of the fighter ships and the drones piloting them into glistening pikes the size of Shiro. Lance felt a bead of sweat bounce around inside his helmet, fingers wrapping into a vice grip around the hilt of his sword. He wasn’t made of any material half as strong as what had gone into those crafts. One hit. That was all it would take.

Funsies.

Lance swung wide, spiraling to his feet and snapping his sword to dig into the splintered shell of an enemy cockpit. He flipped inside, board spinning to gash out a section of the hull before hovering lightly over the ground.

“Okay okay okay,” muttered Lance in Spanish, wrenching off a panel he had frequently seen Pidge discard when tinkering with wires. “No pressure, you’re just a sitting duck waiting to be fried by lasers and a massive ion cannon! Everything’s all fine and dandy in Lanceytown!”

A streak of blue flashed inches from his nose, and Lance nearly screeched out of his skin as gunfire buried itself in the dashboard. “Not the time to prove me right, universe!” He whined, wriggling his nail care kit from his gauntlet.

Lance snickered; old habits die hard. He snapped the strap off and flicked open the folded rows of glinting metal, each instrument nestled lovingly into its own pouch. His fingers moved automatically, skimming over his collection of cuticle pushers and snatching his scissors from their home in the third section along with his clippers. There was definitely an advantage to the extent of his fear when the twins were born that he would end up cutting their fingers when first clipping their nails; he now had the highest quality nail kit he could afford. Plus, he kept hair bands in it.

A laser zipped behind him, singing Lance’s hair and eliciting another shriek from the Black Paladin.

“Knock that off!” He shouted. “I worked very hard to have such effortlessly exquisite locks, you know!”

A faint bubbling poked at the corner of his mind, as if Keith was giggling somewhere beyond just in his memory. Lance swallowed, scissors snapping another wire closed, the fragile plastic coating unbroken over the crackling electricity underneath. He tugged it to the right, wrapping the cord over a metal protrusion, Pidge’s cackle rumbling through his ear as if she was on the comms with him. His fingers were steady as they clipped another wire, the faint hiss of lightning soft beneath his hand, as if Hunk’s warm touch was pressed to his wrist. Shiro’s encouragement thrummed through his blood, even as Lance crouched alone in the cockpit, wrapping blue and yellow wire ends together with a hair band. He slung another wire around the protrusion, just far enough away that it wouldn’t overlap with the red one already there, and drove his sword through the protrusion of metal and the wall of the ship. Nothing was moving _that_ any time soon.

Lance flipped the nail kit back into his cuff and peered out one of the bullet holes, shards of ice piercing the battleground around him. The one overflowing with enemies, with shrapnel, with a thousand death traps that all somehow seemed to have nothing on the half a dozen people who…who believed in him. Even when he was just a boy from Cuba.

Because, if he had been anyone else but a boy from Cuba, he wouldn’t be wiring a makeshift bomb in the middle of a battlefield using his nail kit and a star surfer that no one, not a tech genius, not the greatest pilot of their time, not an alien princess, not a single person beside him could fly. Lance tipped his head back and exhaled, a single tear slipping down his cheek as he felt the last of Kuron’s words release their clamp on his heart, leaving it hovering in his chest like a Lion mid-flight. Free.

Because even back as a kid, even as a child using a board meant for the water to barrel through the streets of his hometown, even as a teenager taking his kids for a spin around their home, he had been enough. He had always been enough.

Lance was finally free.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I own nothing!
> 
> ¡Bien, Ronny, levantemos un poco de infierno!=Okay, Ronny, let's raise a little hell!


	14. A Warrior’s Trust

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith blinked the harsh light from his eyes, lips contorting into a grimace as the old astral plane seeped into his vision. His gaze flickered up instinctively, searching out the twin stars dotting the sky, shoulders rolling down at the soft light. He swore he had been back in the cockpit for a moment, swore he had heard Lance’s soft voice, swore he had felt Black’s tender rumble. But he hadn’t prepared to be shot back into here.

Keith blinked the harsh light from his eyes, lips contorting into a grimace as the old astral plane seeped into his vision. His gaze flickered up instinctively, searching out the twin stars dotting the sky, shoulders rolling down at the soft light. He swore he had been back in the cockpit for a moment, swore he had heard Lance’s soft voice, swore he had felt Black’s tender rumble. But he hadn’t prepared to be shot back into here.

“Lance, you seeing this?” He growled, flicking his bayard back to his hand as his shield rose, particles humming as they slid into place. “Black, what just happened? How’d we get here and where’d everything go?”

His questions echoed, bouncing off the walls, and Keith’s throat slammed shut as no new sound joined them to answer him.

“Lance?”

He spun, sword raised and teeth snapping down together when there wasn’t a glimpse of caramel skin, of sapphire eyes dancing with golden flecks of sunshine, of black paladin armor that matched his own. “Lance!” He yelled, pivoting and snapping his head in a full circle. “Lance?! Where are you? This isn’t the time for games! Black? Are you two here?!”

His questions bounced back in a continuous cycle of questions, barraging him, burying him, suffocating him. Yet, they were all that was here to keep him company.

“ _You cannot do this, princess of lions_ ,” warned Red, cosmic frown pressing down on Allura’s already throbbing head. “ _You were weakened by the mere sight of the altered lightning at a distance. Trying to fight it in the astral plane is nuts._ ”

Allura sighed, flipping her hair over her shoulder and settling into the pilot’s seat as Acxa’s careworn hand hovered, just barely grazing her fingers.

“ _Well, it was Keith who introduced me to nuts; I found them quite delightful,_ ” she shot back, sticking out her tongue internally. “ _And I do not care what I can do; I am going to do this. If I can protect my family, I will. No matter what._ ”

“ _Just trying to send you up there may be too much for your body._ ”

“ _I am not as frail as you believe. If this were Keith, you would have already thrown him in headfirst. I am a Red Paladin too. I am your Paladin,_ ” Allura replied, swallowing heavily and closing her eyes as her fingers clasped the armrests and Acxa’s settled over the back of her hand. “ _So believe in me as you once believed in Keith!_ ”

Krolia blinked. When she had last closed her eyes, she had been sitting in the cockpit of the Blue Lion surrounded by the two men who had raised Keith, leaning against the panel to see if her enhanced vision could make out something else in the silent comm with the Black Lion. Her teeth had been digging into each other, a pain seizing the back of her head, and breath clogging up her throat like poison.

Now she was…here. Here, with a faint shine of blue fading from her eyes, a cosmic chuckle reverberating around her, and a vague nausea in her stomach. She was here…wherever that “here” was. Krolia’s hand snuck back, edging at her blade, and she dipped into a patch of shadows as an echoing shout bounced through the astral plane.

Keith had never minded silence, not the way Lance seemed to with his constant tapping and shuffling and singing, with his fervent glances when the conversation died, with his jokes and swishing jacket and cheers. Anything to fill a room. Anything to chase out the silence. Keith hadn’t realized how used to it he had gotten, how the silence prickled against his skin and crept up his spine like a knife just grazing against his back.

He hadn’t realized he relied on Lance to beat the silence.

Red gave her paladin a cosmic headbutt and a grumble about how she was becoming a pushover, and Allura felt the tension roll free of her shoulders. She squeezed Acxa’s hand, a tight embrace and release, and a bladed smile consumed her face as Red curled around her.

“ _Wipe that lightning off the face of the astral plane, my little lion princess._ ”

Allura felt her bayard crack into her hand, and her curly hair settled like a fan across her shoulders, eyes glittering like shards of a Balmeran crystal and Altean marks shining like stars upon her cheeks.

“ _I swear it!_ ”

Krolia released her hold on her blade, senses still at max as she studied her son. An illusion, possibly? A mirage meant to trick her to come out into the light? It would hardly be the first time; Krolia had witnessed her baby many times in the Quantum Abyss, though she had never gotten to see him grow as she had always wished to. She had never gotten to see his steps, hear his first words, watch him run off to his first day of school, or coo at his first smile. Krolia was used to the regret.

Lightning crackled like a snake hissing to her right, and the hair on the back of Krolia’s neck went rigid.

“Lance?!” Screamed Keith, pivoting as his head jerked to the side, eyes clawing at the empty plane around him, at the darkness hissing at the periphery of his vision, at the feeling that someone was here, some threat was flipping a knife while eyeing him even though there was nothing around him but the endless expanse of nothing nothing _nothing nothing nothingnothingnothingnothingnothing—_

“Keith, _MOVE!_ ”

Allura broke into the astral plane with a scream, pain flecking each of her muscles and dancing like flames behind her eyes. She rolled out, nearly stumbling over her own feet before jerking upright, whip flashing to her hand as each breath heaved at her chest. Allura blew out a concentrated tunnel of air, the _CRACK_ of her shoulders echoing across the plane, and punched down the shivers building in her legs. She didn’t have time for that; _Keith_ didn’t have time for that! Allura’s eyes flashed up and she dropped her weight into a fighting stance, bayard crackling through the air in front of her as the energy drew near. Allura swallowed.

“Come!” She roared, snapping her whip against the ground as a shadow prowled towards her, fractured quintessence rippling off of it and nearly sending her to her knees. “Come and face me!”

A smile carved itself across her lips, and the light off her whip wavered in her eyes like waves off of steel. She could feel Keith’s presence behind her, a sharp flame flickering against the darkness around them, and her curls, so familiar to Lance, blew in a sudden gale. “None may touch the Black Paladins without going through their right-hand woman first.”

Krolia’s boots crashed against the ground, her arms tearing through the air and voice howling as her heart twisted to ice in her chest. Black lightning, corrupted quintessence that made her head pound, coiled into an arrow as it arced towards her son, dancing around his sight and defenses. Keith’s head jerked up at her shout, and the arrow shot forwards. Krolia’s knees bent, power whipping through her legs, eyes flashing with molten gold, and fangs tearing from her mouth as her lasilhs glowed.

Like the crack of a gun, energy snapped from her knees down through the ground, exploding out from her feet and rebounding back into her body like a coiled spring finally loosed on the world, detonating up through her shoulders and launching her across the astral plane as she reached for her son.

A shoulder plowed into his chest, blowing all the breath from his throat, and Keith was flung across the ground of the astral plane. He spun, eyes flashing and shield shifting to take the impact, and his vision was filled with a smile. Krolia was crouched like a quarterback who had finished their charge, her head raised and eyes sparkling like amethysts. She smiled at him like he was the most precious treasure in the whole universe, like she was happy as long as he was safe, like…like she _loved_ him.

“Get back!” Roared Krolia, whipping her knife from her back and snapping it to full length just as she spun and faced the onslaught of corrupted quintessence.

Keith slammed against the ground, skidding across the plane as his shield sent up sparks beneath him, and Krolia’s feet dug into the floor as her smirk grew.

She had sworn she would die with a smile on her face.

Allura felt the world rip away from under her feet, her breath turning into concrete within her chest, and her bayard knocked against her palm as her soul shot into her heels. Her knees, bent to keep her mobility high, straightened. Her arm, raised to block any quick shots, fell to her side, her bayard lowering in her other hand. Her lungs went limp, and her heart pounded at her ribs as if trying to break out, to break free, to _break_.

The Black Lion snarled in response, mane bristling, and fangs glittering as lightning sizzled off their fur, eyes glowing white with a blind rage that consumed the speechless paladin and dissolved her to nothing more than another pile of ash on its warpath.

Krolia didn’t know if this was an illusion, a trick of the quintessence, or the work of some druid. She didn’t know if the boy she had just thrown away from the blast was just another straw puppet, if she had just blown her chance to protect the real Keith, if she had failed him yet again. Krolia had no clue.

But, at the end of the day, it didn’t matter. Because that wasn’t a chance she was willing to take on her son’s life.

The lightning passed right through the blade she brandished, snaking into her stomach and flooding her body. Keith’s shout was drowned out by a sudden clanging of bells in her ears, the flames bursting from her blood cells, the silent roar torn from her lips as Krolia went limp, knife slipping from her fingers.

“Keith!” Yelled Allura, spinning as her fingers went rigid around her whip again. “Are you alright?!”

“Krolia’s not!” Screamed Keith, and the Black Lion let out a sky-splitting roar as they lunged towards the Red Paladin. “Allura, what’s happening?!”

Allura flung herself into a roll, back slapping against the floor and steel snapping taut in her eyes as she spun. Her whip shrieked against the ground in front of the Black Lion, one hand throwing up a cosmic cloud of dust, fingers digging into the plane as she skidded to a halt. She spat a curl from her mouth, teeth gritting into one another with a faint hiss.

“That lightning alters quintessence!” She shouted, vaulting clear of the Black Lion’s pounce and cracking her knees harshly as she fell into a crouch to dodge the swipe that followed barely a split tick later. “Lance is working on destroying its source; we just need to keep it from infecting us!”

“By touch?”

Allura slammed one hand into the ground, her body shifting into a Galran form and snarl tearing free of her throat. She threw both legs into the air, shoulder pivoting and hips snapping in an arc that whipped through her leg and smashed her foot into the Black Lion’s muzzle. The Lion gave a mewl of pain as their head shot to the side, and Allura’s heart wound itself into knots. She flipped back, taking the opportunity to force a gap between her and her attacker.

“Only with the lightning! Not with anyone infected by it!”

Keith swallowed harshly, throat bobbing at those words, and he raised his sword and shield as Krolia stood, eyes a blank white sea as she leveled her knife at his throat.

“Good to know,” he managed, shifting his hold on the hilt and crouching in a defensive stance. “That, I can fight.”

Krolia’s blade remained in its knife form as she dropped into a guard so familiar it left Keith slamming his eyes closed against the stinging memories rising in his mind. The air of the training room, the furious hacks at the gladiator drowning out the soft _swish_ of the door, but somehow not Krolia’s offer to spar. The thump of her forearms knocking against his, the tap of her feet sliding between his, the way the world spun as she swept him from his feet to the ground like he was a bag of flour—

A knee smashed into Keith’s stomach, knocking the air from his lungs and yanking his feet from the floor into a blind stumble backwards. Krolia’s fist caught his jaw, snapping his head to the side, and throwing him to the ground.

Keith’s back skidded against the ground, his head narrowly missing the floor, and shield materializing as he bounced across the astral plane.

Allura gave a shout, and the Black Lion seized her whip between their jaws, jerking to one side and wrenching the Red Paladin off her feet. The Lion clamped down on the weapon, eyes glinting like sharpened opals as they reared their head back. Allura bit back a curse as she was flung across the astral plane, stars whipping past her eyes and fingers locking around the whip.

Keith rolled to his feet, dropping beneath Krolia’s flurry of punches and lashing out his leg in a sweep. Krolia hopped over his foot as it skidded across the floor, and Keith planted the outstretched foot into the ground directly beneath her. He arched his back, popping his free leg off the floor and slapping a palm against the ground as an anchor as he whipped a kick towards her stomach.

“Glad you finally get to hit the mother who abandoned you?”

Allura drew the whip close to her chest, spinning midair amidst a flurry of cloud-white curls, and crashing to the ground in a horse stance as she snapped her arms down, whip cracking within the Lion’s mouth and eliciting a howl of pain that sent the light swimming in Allura’s eyes.

She wrenched her whip free.

Keith flinched back at the words, the lightning deepening Krolia’s voice, and she batted his leg aside effortlessly, landing like a cat before leaping back.

“It would hardly be strange,” commented the quintessence through Krolia. “For you to despise this woman, for you want to beat her up like her absence did to your heart. Even she knows that. She knows that missing out on you growing up, that _abandoning you_ , that those years she lost will never be something she can make up. She knows she hurt you.”

Keith’s teeth dug into one another, his eyes flashing yellow and nails biting through the fabric protecting his palms.

“Obviously!” He snarled, switching his sword to his dominant hand and listening to the jokes his friends constantly made about that gesture (something about Montoya?) play through his head, his heart syncing up with the familiar beat. “So it’s a good thing we’ve still got the future.”

“This is a war. There is no future guaranteed,” spat out Krolia. “She understands that quite well. Better than you, apparently.”

Keith’s sword vibrated in his vice grip, and as yellow flooded his vision, Krolia’s soft, lilting words from a few quintants ago sang through his mind. _If you want to utilize that desire to protect on the battlefield, be sure that you have someone around that you trust for a bit. Have someone there who can calm you down, who you believe in to watch your back, who will bring you back to yourself once the battle is over._

“Keith! Do you want to swap opponents?” Asked Allura, her fingers splaying between his shoulder blades as one eye tracked the Black Lion slinking towards her. “I can fight Krolia quite well, and you know the Black Lion better than I.”

Keith leaned into the touch, lips twitching back to reveal fangs, and yellow sclera encircling eyes of pure violet fixated on his opponent as Krolia’s weight shifted, knife tilting to the left. All the air rushed out of Keith’s lungs, and he swore Krolia’s lip twitched for just a heartbeat before vanishing back into the robotic line he had only seen during training. _Their_ training.

Keith shoved Allura to the left and dove to the right, his shield popping up barely in time to intercept her strike. Krolia’s brow furrowed, and Keith’s grin grew even as his guard faltered. He detached the shield from his wrist with a flick of his fingers and spun, foot twirling a full circle beneath him as his heel drove into the glowing blue wall.

Krolia slid back, the shield dissolving as it fell to the ground, and Keith pressed his back against Allura’s. He could feel the energy pulsing through his veins, buzzing like adrenaline turned to the max in his stomach, like wildfire flooding every inch of him. Allura twisted her head just enough for him to see the smile curving at her lips, and her feet shifted to better support the extra weight, and Keith’s heart unclenched at the unwavering light of her eyes as they took in his glowing lasilh. He shifted to balance her weight.

“This one’s mine,” stated Keith. “Krolia’s still in there; all these moves are standard Blade sequences, strategies we learn before boarding any ship. She’s slowing down, telegraphing her moves. I can read her signals, so,” Keith inclined his head, smirking at the fire blazing in Allura’s smile, “I’m going to leave Black to you, right-hand woman.”

Allura tilted her chin forwards, fingers deftly pulling her curls into a high ponytail, and eyes glittering like cut diamonds.

“Consider them covered,” she replied, bayard materializing in her grasp again and exploding out into a red whip hissing with forks of quintessent flames. “I will bring your Lion back to you.”

“Never doubted it for a tick,” was Keith’s only reply, and the two paladins braced against one another for a moment, all weight leaning on the other, eyes like cut marble, weapons raised, and enemies stalking them even as their battle-high grins mirrored each other’s.

Then they tore into battle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I own nothing!


	15. The Charm of a Sibling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “ _As if I would let any of you scum so much as **touch** my family!_” She roared, her bayard radiating a faint green light from her hilt that had nothing on the firestorm ablaze in her eyes. “Bring it! All of you! I’ll show you exactly how deadly any lioness is, no matter how small!”

Matt’s fingers tapped out a staccato beat against the console of the Green Lion, his amber eyes a focused laser digging through the cockpit that the ships were bearing down where their reckless Black Paladin hid, guns aglow. His feet rapped at the floor, his teeth digging into one another until only his half-silent mantra could slip through.

“Come on, Lance. Come on, Lance. Come on come on come on come on come on…”

Pidge jerked the Green Lion in a roll, tossing Matt to the floor as she slammed one of her controls forward and unleashed a stream of vines upon the unsuspecting battleships bearing down on the Black Lion. Her eyes flashed like liquid gold, a snarl on her lips and a thrumming energy prickling at her skin, setting a faint glow to her irises.

“ _As if I would let any of you scum so much as **touch** my family!_” She roared, her bayard radiating a faint green light from her hilt that had nothing on the firestorm ablaze in her eyes. “Bring it! All of you! I’ll show you exactly how deadly any lioness is, no matter how small!”

Lance exploded out of the cockpit a second before the battleships fired, his helmet smeared and shield flashing to his arm with a flick of his wrist. He could see it again, rising around him, and a smile curved up his lips at the flashes of color in his mind’s eye. The streak of brick as he sped away from some group of jerks, the rotted crate for them to leap off of carefully placed behind him, and silent snickers building up in his mouth. He would unleash them in a second, and he tore around a corner to be sure that the spray of mushy fruits hidden in the crate wouldn’t touch his clothes. He didn’t need Nadia and Sylvio making faces at him when he picked them up from school.

Lance wondered if school was out for the day back on Earth.

Pidge felt the hair rising on the back of her neck, her glasses digging into her nose as her Lion tore through the ranks of enemy fighters like an invisible demon. She twisted in midair, tail lashing out in a spiral of lasers that cleaved through metal and turned engines into lit bombs. Matt clung to a bar on the ground, and Pidge let out a roar as explosions lit up the sky like fireworks around her. She arched her head, her blast consuming a battleship and transforming it into a jungle.

The Green Lion spun to a halt, perched in space like a panther calculating it’s next pounce, tail curling in a protective circle over the Black Lion’s head. Pidge braced herself, thunder on her brow and fury boiling around her in a sharp glow.

“Try me, bastards!”

Flames exploded behind Lance and metal shrieked as the lasers threw wires against the flinty shrapnel, tearing through them and unleashing the electricity in an arcing shock wave. Lance twisted around one of the battleships, throwing his body to the side until his forehead came centimeters close to scraping the windows and his galaxy grin winked back at him through the glass. Lance felt his heart twist in his chest, a second shine seeping into his eyes, and his next breath hitched at his shoulders. There really was no difference between these windows and the ones on the streets of Varadero.

Maybe his two homes weren’t as far apart as he had thought.

Pidge let out a guttural snarl as she sniped down two ships trying to break off from the fleet to chase down Lance. No one hurt her family. Especially not her brothers. Pidge had sworn it after Lance’s migraine, and she had never once forgotten that vow. She would blast apart any barrier, hunt down any ship, tear through any weapon that targeted the ones she loved.

_“LANCE, I AM COMING IN!” Screeched Pidge before she stomp-kicked the door down and stormed into the dark room._

_Well, she had programmed the door to open the moment before her boot made contact, but semantics aside, she was in now._

_She also witnessed something she had thought impossible as Lance leapt about three feet in the air while still seated, slammed his head on the ceiling, and splatted back onto his bed with a shriek. Pidge just raised an eyebrow. “Next time, answer the door when I knock, and you won’t feel the need to give yourself a concussion!” She snapped, hauling her computer into the room and plopping next to him on the bed._

_“Pidge, dude, what the heck?” Complained Lance, jerking back to a sitting position and rubbing his head harshly (that was just making it worse, idiot). “I said I was busy, that **is** an answer!”_

_“Next time give me a satisfactory answer when I knock, and you won’t feel the need to give yourself a concussion!” Shot back Pidge. “_ Busy _my foot! You’re sitting here spiralling because Acxa and Zethrid lashed out at you when you tried to make them chill out at the last strategy meeting, the diplomatic mission coming up is piling pressure on top of your head, and you’ve decided that you’re not going to talk to Keith about it until he works out his stuff with his mom! So you’re hiding in your room instead of actually coming and asking for help! Your door is difficult to hack, you know!”_

_Lance scowled, hugging his pillow close to his stomach and creating a wall between him and the shorter, bespectacled girl._

_“I’m fine, Pidge.”_

_“Yeah,” agreed Pidge, flipping her laptop open without ever taking her eyes off of Lance. “You will be. I know that, Lance. You’re going to do just fine; you always have, and I believe in you.”_

_Leaning back, she ticked the characteristics off her fingers as she listed them, typing rapidly with her free hand and still freezing her friend with her stare. “You’re dependable, kind to a fault, loyal, brave, smart beyond numbers, unbreakable, and honestly one of the best people I have ever met and will ever meet. Those are just facts, Lance.”_

_She tilted her head to the side and quirked up the corners of her mouth, bringing herself down from her factorial brain and nudging his side with her elbow as she giggled. “Not to mention, a powerhouse . And I’m not going to say beautiful because I know you’re going make that face at me—yes, that one! Knock it off!”_

_Lance snorted, elbowing her in return and Pidge shoved him with a scowl that completely fell apart under the weight of her giggles. “You just ruined it! Look, I’m not going to say it, but here’s something that will!”_

_Pidge smashed the PLAY key on her computer, and the song’s soft beats pulsed through the room._

_“I don’t ever wanna feel like this again,” it sang, and Pidge saw Lance’s breath lodge in his throat. “Picking at my skin._

_Tryin’ to be perfect,_

_But I feel worthless,_

_Under the surface.”_

_“Pidge, you don’t—”_

_“Shut up and listen,” growled Pidge; she did not have the battery power or emotional fortitude to replay parts of the song. “I’m only going to do this once, so get it through your skull, sharpshooter.”_

_That silenced him, and Pidge felt her insides coil when she saw the tears mist over Lance’s eyes. She really needed to compliment him more._

_“It’s all in my head, comparing myself to everyone else, and,” sang her computer, and Lance’s fist tightened around the covers. “Sometimes I’m not okay._

_But I know that it’s okay._

_‘Cause we all feel the same way.”_

_Pidge rested her small hand on Lance’s shoulders—too broad and sagging, as if they had been carrying the weight of the world for phoebs—and sang along._

_“Even when I’m at my worst,_

_When I’ve been down so long it hurts,_

_When I’m feeling ugly,_

_Know I gotta love me.”_

_Pidge squeezed his shoulder for emphasis, fixing her amber eyes on his and shoving all that she had into the next few words._

_“‘Cause I am, I’m still beautiful.”_

_Lance’s breath hitched, his shoulders seizing beneath her touch, and she nearly yanked back at the sudden movement. Then the tension drained from them._

_“Even when they throw their sticks and stones,” continued Pidge tentatively. “I’mma be stronger on my own.”_

_Lance’s lips curved into a smile, smaller than she thought she had ever seen, but also far more honest as he joined in._

_“When I’m feeling ugly,_

_Know I gotta love me._

_‘Cause I am always beautiful.”_

_“Great!” Cheered Pidge, slapping Lance on the back and shoving all the air from his lungs as her computer died. “Now come and help me beat Keith in Codenames; he and Shiro are too good at it and Hunk doesn’t get my memes!”_

_Lance let out a shriek of laughter and flung an arm over Pidge, yanking her close and ruffling her hair._

_“Oh, don’t think I’m going to be distracted from you being nice that easily!”_

_“Drat, competitions with his boyfriend usually work.”_

_“HE IS NOT MY—!”_

_“Prove it! You wouldn’t want to beat him if he’s your boyfriend!”_

_“OH YOU ARE ON! KEITH IS GOING DOWN!”_

_Lance tore from the room, Pidge in tow with her computer barely clutched in her fingers and laughter bubbling from her lips like a brook. She glanced up, her wide eyes taking in the sunshine glinting behind his smile, and her heart tightened in her chest. She knew she couldn’t convince Lance to come to them with his problems. She couldn’t insist that she and Hunk would always be there to listen, to help, to support him and lift him up, not after phoebs of burying herself in projects as he spiraled into heartbreak. She didn’t usually ask people to help her deal with her own problems either; even the search for Matt and her father had been largely her own work because she had hissed and scowled away any offers of help._

_Pidge wasn’t a good speaker. There was a reason that she had pulled up a song instead, had relied on that to speak for her, rather than try to vocalize her own feelings. Pidge had always been more of a_ hit-the-problem-till-it-works _kind of girl, not really a_ soothe-the-problem-into-a-natural-resolution _person. That was Lance’s job and occasionally Shiro’s if their fearless leader was busy. This was why Pidge was the technician and Lance was the diplomat._

_But Lance wasn’t just her leader or the team’s diplomat. He was her brother. And Pidge would try anything, risk anything, say anything if it meant keeping her family safe. That would always come first. More than keeping Voltron safe, Pidge would single-handedly destroy the Galra Empire herself if it meant protecting her family of paladins._

_“Alright!” Cheered Lance, dragging Pidge into the game room and turning to her with a grin made of pure gold. “Let’s kick their butts! Team Plunk are taking down the Broganes and Adam, ‘cause I know you’re going to join in, hermano!”_

_Pidge pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose and grinned back. Sometimes, the extent of her protection was simply to put a smile on their faces. And it was always worth it. And if her tech helped do that, well, that was because she made sure each project, whether mechanical or interpersonal, aboard the ship…_

_“Works like a charm.”_

Pidge blasted a drone out of the sky as it came near the Black Lion, twisting her head to aim another laser at the fighter ship streaking towards Lance. If she could destroy ancient Altean doors, these little crafts that blew up the moment her blasts hit them were nothing to worry about. She would watch Lance’s back like he always watched hers. And she wouldn’t let anything hurt him. _Anything._

The glinting shrapnel shot forwards, the shock wave of the explosion propelling them like sharpened meteors into the battleship cabins amid a rain of glass and twisted, severed metal. They dug into the engines, battering at the wings until they cut through, ricocheting off the barriers surrounding the ion cannons and hurtling with more force into the other ships’ hulls. Lance whipped out behind the battleships, his weight low on the board as he swooped towards the main battleship, whose cannon had begun to pulse with a glow that sent shudders pulsing down his spine even as it hid behind a massive shield.

An ion cannon began to swivel amid the explosions, pivoting on its axis to glare at the one who had wrought these flames upon it.

Lance held out his hand, straining his fingers and flicking them lightly against his palm once, never looking back. There was no need. Lance knew his bayard would always come back to him. He still had too much to do for it to even think about quitting on him yet.

Pidge wrenched her controls to the side, body-slamming a fighter and encasing a particularly close battleship in vines tight enough for the glass to crumple in on itself. Matt yelped, grabbing onto another bar for dear life, and shot a glare at his sister as if he could possibly summon any heat right then. If he were the one capable of saving Keith’s life right then, he would do the same thing. And, to Pidge, there was nothing in the world worth more than her family’s lives.

Lance dove to the side, the heat off the ion cannon’s blast blowing him backwards as the final battleship swivelled to shoot at him one last time before it exploded in a cacophony of flames and metal scraps. The glass on his helmet caught the purple light, casting a glow over his face as an awed grin split his lips. Just like the kids chasing him always threw one last can at his head, the Galra always took one last shot. He winked and blew a kiss at the exploding ship. Apparently, there were some things that were just constants in this world.

Pidge roared, her claws flashing as the Green Lion tore through the fighters swarming around the limp Black Lion. Her fangs ripped into one, hurling it into the cabin of a battleship nearing her family, and a glint of fury shone in the Lion’s gaze. Pidge’s eyes were supernovas, explosions ricocheting off each other in a neverending torrent of love and destruction. What she had out here _was not nothing_ , it had _never been nothing_ , and _she was here to make sure it never became nothing._

One of those constants was that Lance would do everything he could to protect his family, to protect those he loved, to protect a universe full of people who each had someone who loved them. He would fly, he would dive, he would weave a new truth on his words alone, he would flip and ride and climb and fight and claw and scream and love his way to victory. He wasn’t going to lose his family.

She would protect them.

He would protect them.

_No matter what._

Pidge shrieked as Lance’s voice joined hers in her head, and her bayard flew from her belt, a black glow glistening over it’s green light. It hovered in the cabin, flashing into pure light and curling in on itself before lunging at Pidge.

Lance screeched as his bayard of light consumed his hand, a green and black glow solidifying around his wrist and creeping up his arm.

“AAAAAAAAAA, get it off get it off get it off _get it off!_ ” He cried, flailing in circles and barely repressing a smile as Pidge gave a cosmic roll of her eyes. “Offffffffffffffff!”

“Shut up, idiot!”

Lance let out a chortle as he felt Pidge punch his arm, ruffling her hair in response and eyeing the new weapon stretching over his arm. It was like a gauntlet version of those Bakugan wrist launchers Sylvio had begged for in the grocery store and promptly given Nadia the tick they arrived back home, except green and black with a cannon humming with quintessence. Pidge’s sigh reverberated through his body at the internal description, and he poked her nose aggressively in response.

“I loved Bakugan too,” she grumbled. “But I could never find a good version of those stupid launchers, so I kind of made my own but it backfired and hit me in the eye. Maybe I should try again, I bet I could get the propulsion just right now so it can account for the different thicknesses of gate cards and so ability cards won’t knock it over if you angle them wrong, so you can actually throw them onto the battlefield instead of just holding them up—”

Lance ruffled her hair again, a laugh dancing through their shared minds, and they squared their shoulders. Pidge closed her eyes, and Lance raised his chin as he turned to the battleship and one of his eyes melted from blue to amber. Pidge’s gaze snapped back to the army approaching the Black Lion, one a freezing blue tundra and the other a sandstorm of gold. A grin spread between the two linked minds.

“Remind me to introduce you to Nadia when we get back; she’s the Number 1 Bakugan Battle Brawler and no one can tell her otherwise,” said Lance, slamming his board into an arc through the hole that the ion blast had made in the barrier surrounding the enemy’s newest weapon, its black lightning swirling into a concentrated ball of destruction.

“Looking forward to it, doofus,” replied Pidge, back straightening against her chair and arm drawing back to unleash a volley of destruction upon the flock of fighters.

_Because we’ll protect them together!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I own nothing!


	16. Don’t Yield An Inch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Allura flipped her shield into Keith’s hands just in time for Krolia’s sword to bounce off of it as the Red Paladin flipped through the air, whip snapping across the floor as a kind of barrier around the Black Lion. The Lion roared, maw flashing with black lightning, and Keith stomped on Krolia’s foot, flicking his knife under his arm so the flat of the blade smacked Black’s nose. The Lion let out a yowl, pulling back, and Allura snatched Keith’s knife out of the air.

Allura flipped her shield into Keith’s hands just in time for Krolia’s sword to bounce off of it as the Red Paladin flipped through the air, whip snapping across the floor as a kind of barrier around the Black Lion. The Lion roared, maw flashing with black lightning, and Keith stomped on Krolia’s foot, flicking his knife under his arm so the flat of the blade smacked Black’s nose. The Lion let out a yowl, pulling back, and Allura snatched Keith’s knife out of the air.

“Exchange!” She called as Keith body-slammed Krolia back, slinging his blade at him.

“Tha—!” Keith’s words were cut off by a yelp as the dagger slammed into his hand like a fastball, nearly yanking him from his feet. “Thanks for the warning,” he grumbled. “You’re worse than Lance, Allura.”

Allura snickered as she snatched her shield out of midair, twirling to hurl it at the crackling Black Lion like a chakram. Black dove to the side, the edge of the shield tearing through their mane and embedding itself into the ground of the astral plane. Allura smirked. Was she trying to break the astral plane to get them out?

Keith wondered if that would actually work.

Krolia whipped a jab past his guard, her free hand seizing his wrist and yanking his arm down as she flipped both feet off the ground, rolling across his shoulder and down his back. Her boots smacked against the floor, knife flipping into her grasp, and the hair on Keith’s neck shot to attention.

Allura dropped back to the ground, snatching her whip from the floor and nearly shrieking as the Black Lion’s bite snapped inches shy of her head. She rolled free, dropping to a low lunge and lashing her whip towards the Lion’s legs like a rearing serpent.

Keith hit the ground, palms flat on the plane and one leg shooting back between Krolia’s as her strike slashed through empty air. Keith felt a hot spike of pride in his chest as his sweep sent Krolia stumbling backwards, and he popped back up into a fighting stance. She was slowing down more and more, falling for his tricks, making careless mistakes. His Krolia was winning.

Lance’s fingers clamped onto the edge of the cannon as he kicked his feet free of the solar surfer, the engines shooting it into the mass of crackling black quintessence. Lance grimaced. On the off chance that got through, it would smash into the conductor at the end of the tunnel, but…

Well, Lance wasn’t too keen on betting on that. Pidge gave a snort within his mind in response to that, and Lance swiveled his legs to the floor, a grin stretching up into his amber and blue eyes.

“Aw, have little hope, Gundergon!” He teased, the words nearly fried before ever leaving his mouth by the hissing, spitting quintessence in front of him. “You never know; it might have better luck than your launcher!”

“Stuff it! And your nicknames suck!” Retorted Pidge, taking just one tick to snicker at her brother’s offended squawking before fixing her multicolored gaze on the fleet bearing down on her and the limp Black Lion behind her.

Her eyes sharpened into slits, and Matt’s hand settled on her shoulder. He gave a light squeeze, his own gaze fixed on the ships outside, and a smirk flickered across his face.  
“Knock them out of the solar system, sis.”

Lance slapped his gauntlet, a shield flashing onto his arm as a tendril of electricity lashed out at him. It whipped through the barrier of particles in front of him, hissing just shy of his nose, and shapes danced in the electricity as it passed before Lance’s eyes. Swords bouncing off each other, shields flying through the air, a whip lashing out, stars glowing like flashlights against a familiar sky, a woman cradling a small bundle close to her chest as if she held the whole world in her arms, a cat leaping into the sky, a sun explodi—

Pidge punched his cosmic arm with a roll of her eyes and shoulder. How did this doofus survive without her?

Lance jerked back, feet skidding against the metal cannon, and he stole a glance over his shoulder. He had about twenty feet to the edge, give or take? It was about as long as Marco’s garage, sooooooooooooo? The lightning pulsed in front of him again, and Lance’s stomach roiled as his bayard glowed, heat leaking off it on his wrist. Lance swallowed. Then he shifted, one foot sliding behind the other, and planted both heels into the ground.

The cannon whirred, lightning cackling as it was drawn back into the base of the tunnel, pressing down on itself and wrapping the tainted quintessence into a concentrated bundle of black destruction. The glass conductor flashed at him from the back.

“¡Aquí no va nada!” Yelled Lance, locking his arm on the target and smashing the release on his launcher.

Pidge slammed her bayard into the Green Lion’s console and twisted it, light flooding the cabin in a flurry of green and black spots. Green curled in on herself, limbs snapping back as if shrinking, and chin tucking in to tap her paws. Pidge drew in a harsh breath and held it in her shoulders, teeth grinding against each other and, out of sight of her brother, fingers crossing in her lap.

Four disks burst out of Lance’s gauntlet, and his heart dropped down into his boots as they shot not _forwards_ , no, but in _the four cardinal directions_! Like _that_ was a sensible aiming device on any gun! Lance growled as the lightning spun itself into a tiny, black replica of mercury, and brandished his shield as jetpack flared behind him. If he was going down, he’d go down between the threat and everyone he loved.

A roar tore through the beast, snapping her legs down and whipping her head up as her entire body glowed a blinding green. The light tore off of the Lion, shooting out into a sphere encompassing the Black Lion as if greeting an old friend and forcing enemy ships backwards in a flurry of clanging metal and explosions. Pidge’s eyes lit up like sparklers as the shield locked into place around them, and Matt let out a low whistle.

“Always wondered what hamsters felt like in those plastic balls.”

“Matt. Zip it.”

The quintessence burst forth from the sphere in a blast of searing black lightning, flooding Lance’s vision, and his jet pack shot to max propulsion as he braced his shield against his shoulder. A battle cry tore from his throat, and Lance’s boots ground backwards slowly against the cannon blast. His eyes cracked open, and Lance nearly jerked back himself at the sudden shift in lighting. Each of the disks in the cannon hummed with quintessence, spinning a glowing green projection of his shield between them with black carvings embellishing the cover. It screeched against the cannon as Lance’s foot slipped, and he flung his shoulder forward as he floundered for footing. Lance grinned, a gritty determination illuminated by stars overflowing from his mismatched eyes, and he brought his foot back to the ground with a resounding _CRASH._

Now all he had to do was stand his ground.

Allura’s whip lashed around the Black Lion’s legs, wrapping around their ankles and snaring up to the howling beast’s knees. Black sizzled, electricity rippling off their fur and eyes flashing a crystal-white as they threw back their head and let out a roar that shook the ground beneath Allura’s feet. A flash of pure black quintessence, the soft kind that radiated from Shiro, Lance, and Keith’s souls, rippled across the astral plane, and Allura stumbled back as a flare of green quintessence resounded through the air.

Keith danced around Krolia’s flurries of blows, her words screeching like nails against a chalkboard. Those were claws he couldn’t dodge.

“She has no future with you and she knows it!”

“You’ll never be able to truly forgive her, will you?”

“How could you possibly forgive the one who abandoned you?”

“She doesn’t know how to be a mother to you, and you don’t know how to be a son!”

“You two are both failures, but only one of you is smart enough to have noticed that!”

“She’s hopeless and she knows it!”

“She’s already given up on a life as your mother!”

Allura winced at the flaring quintessences, shaking the spots from her eyes, and turned towards the Black Lion growling at her from where it lay, trapped, on the floor of the astral plane. She wrenched her shield from the ground.

“She gave up on you!”

“She doesn’t care about you! She doesn’t love you! Not like how a mother should! She questions it everyday; how could she possibly love you properly if she was willing to walk away for the sake of the war?”

“She knows better than to try again!”

“She already knows you’ll never see her as your mother!”

Pidge’s eyes flashed with lasers as Matt peppered the persistent remains of the army with gunfire, his own scowl creeping across her lips. Each hit to the shield resonated up her bayard and through her arm like a drum, fraying her nerves and sending blasts of pain through her connection with Green. Her Lion let out a yowl in her mind, and Pidge flinched back in her seat, unleashing a spike of pain down her spine like a shotgun blast.

“Not yet, girl!” She snarled, her muscles going taut and jaw locking.

Lance growled, his boots grinding against the steel cannon as the corrupted quintessent lighting hammered against his shield, the blows crackling through his chest as if passing right through to his heart. His chest throbbed, a silent scream boiling in his throat, and his jetpack sputtered behind him. Lance let out a scream, throwing his body weight behind the shield and driving the edge of his feet against the cannon’s metal frame as stars exploded behind his eyes. He had gone from twenty feet to eight in too short a span of time for him to deal with jetpack problems right now!

A battleship leveled an ion blast against her shield, and Matt barely had time to give a warning cry before pain flooded her entire being. Pidge jerked bolt upright in her chair, a scream tearing free of her throat and her body vibrating with neverending waves of pure agony. “Not _yet!_ ” She yelled, the back of her head snapping against the headrest. “ _Not yet!_ ”

Pain screamed through Lance’s link with Pidge, pounding at his muscles, and Lance dropped his head as a roar blasted out of his throat. He twisted, his other arm digging into the back of the shield, and glared explosives at the lightning clawing at the other side of his defense. Then he forced his leg to rise, hurling it forward in a crashing, searing step forwards that sent a longsword through his ankle.

Her multicolored eyes were slammed shut against the pain, her nails cutting through the armrest, but Pidge’s shoulder just plunged her bayard impossibly deeper into the Green Lion’s console as her roar cleaved through the battlefield.

His multicolored eyes danced with electricity as shoved the blast back, heels still skidding against the uneven tunnel, and lightning lashing cracks into his shield as the Black Paladin hurled his shoulder against the bayard, his roar splitting the battlefield.

“ _We’re not going to bend until Keith comes home!_ ”

The shield flashed, melting in a swarm of lights from Allura’s grasp, and a faint breeze blew the remnants of the weapon up through her hair and off towards the blinking red and blue stars. The Black Lion’s growl grew deeper, and Allura dug her toe into the ground, fists rising and eyes glittering as her weight dropped. Lightning crackled between them.

She shot across the astral plane, strides long and boots light on the ground, curls blown back from her cheeks, and arms drawn back to strike.

“She’s never going to be your mother!”

“She’s not a fool!”

“She’s—”

“Oh, for quiznak’s sake, just shut up already!” Yelled Keith, whipping his luxite blade from its sheath and snapping it to its full length with a _CLANG_ against Krolia’s knife.

The white glow in her eyes wavered at the familiar sword.

Allura sprang across the last foot between her and her foe, smacking both palms against either side of the Black Lion’s head, and slamming her forehead into theirs. The emotions crashed over her like a tsunami, rattling fears into her skull, and she heard a faint whimper from the true Black Lion within.

“That’s enough, already!” She snapped.

Keith shoved the symbol closer, his eyes wrapped in a harsh yellow light and his fangs grinding against one another.

“Maybe I don’t get people,” he snarled. “Maybe I’ve never been raised by my mother, and maybe I only met her a phoeb ago, but even I know that’s not what she’d say!”

“It is not your responsibility to defeat this quintessence by yourself!” Cried Allura, fingers digging into the fur, just light enough to not hurt the Lion. “You do not need to bottle it all inside; you do not need to handle this alone! You have two of the most reliable paladins in the universe by your side, and they have us!”

The Lion howled under her touch, and Allura’s hair stood on end as images of Zarkon flashed by. Betrayal. A complete betrayal from the one Black had trusted most. From the one they had loved unconditionally. A skewer dug itself into Allura’s heart, and her forehead nestled further into Black’s. She let out a long, slow exhale.

Keith grabbed Krolia’s wrist, jerking her arm to the side and tackling her, knife brandished with the symbol glowing right over her eyes. “She told me her lasilh was to protect! That it was to defend those who couldn't save themselves! And she—well—”

Keith’s snarl hitched, his yellow sclera lined with a thin layer of tears like gold ribbons, and his lasilh pulsed harshly against his cheek. “—She’s my mother! So, if she really was being eaten alive thinking that we have no future together, then she would quiznaking get her act together—”

“Compare my brother and his boyfriend to Zarkon again, and I will throw you out of this astral plane, honored Lion or not!” Roared Allura, Altean marks radiant against her cheeks as she knocked her forehead against Black’s. “These are not the paladins of old! Everyone in the Castle of Lions are not comrades, we are _family_! We are bonded not by war, but by love! And we shall not go anywhere!”

Krolia’s wrist broke free of Keith’s hold and snapped up toward him as a single tear slid free of his eyes, and he felt the paladin armor crack to show the child inside wailing as he tripped and fell, one hand outstretched and fingers grasping for someone to catch him, for _anyone to just be there—_ “ _and protect me!_ "

“ _Because family always comes back to each other!_ ” Screamed Allura, her fingers locking around the quintessent lightning haunting the Lion’s mind and tearing it free.

Krolia’s fist shattered the air beside Keith’s head, the wind off the strike blowing at a strand of hair, and the white light dominating her eyes splintered.

Lance screamed, his shield fracturing on his arm and pain writhing through every nerve in his body, boots shredded against the floor and blood seeping from his lip where he had bitten down too hard. The lightning swelled behind his cracking defenses, ricocheting inside the tunnel and glowing with a white-hot energy that seared at Lance’s arm. His Altean marks flashed in the light, and his heels tore into the flooring as he slammed his shoulder into the shield one last time.

Pidge howled, agony arcing through her like a livewire, and her glasses cracked on the bridge of her nose. Matt let out a feral roar, the Green Lion’s tail finally blasting down the ion cannon, and the next barrage of shots sent the battleship up in flames. His amber eyes glowed with a wrath to rival any Lion as he ruthlessly picked off each ship bombarding his sister’s barrier. He wasn’t going to let _any_ of these _floating hunks of cheap metal hurt his sister!_

The lightning swarmed forward, slamming at the shield, and Lance felt his heart freeze as the cracks split open.

“¡Venga!” He roared, setting his jetpack to max as he threw his body weight mercilessly against the shield, multicolored eyes flashing like volcanos in the light off the quintessence. “ _¡No voy a romper!_ ”

The lightning hissed against Allura’s palms, ripping free of her fingers and tearing across the astral plane. It sprang from Krolia’s head, shooting free of Keith’s knife and melding with its counterpart. Allura spun, the Black Lion groaning beneath her, and Krolia vaulted to her feet, Keith a step behind her and her blade extended to its full length. The lightning glowed, spinning around itself as it grew, bearing down on the four forms below as the light of the red and blue stars was blotted from the sky.

The lightning crashed against itself, battering at the sides of the cannon, and glowed a searing white as it ricocheted through its own conductor. The explosion of the quintessent lightning slammed against Lance’s shield as a fighter crashed into Pidge’s barrier, and two pairs of multicolored eyes clouded over. The two paladins’ bodies arched as a searing agony consumed them, a scream tearing free of their already shredded throats, and their defenses shattered.

Keith’s breath vanished from his lungs as the lightning dissolved before his eyes, the corruption melting away into pure quintessence, and the golden energy seeping into the astral plane around them. Strands of it spiralled around him, creating a little procession of baby hippos stomping in a circle around his chest and stealing a laugh from his stunned heart.

Another tendril drew flying chipmunks with horns (that was the best comparison Keith could come up with) around Allura, who gave a teary chuckle. A herd of deer bounced around Krolia, her eyes glowing with fond memories of campfires, marshmallows, and a particularly giddy baby Keith that night.

And two paladins, hand-in-hand, laughing, danced in a circle around the Black Lion.

Lance was blasted out of the cannon, his smaller particle shield crushed, and the flames charring the white of his armor black. His jetpack sizzled, sending the unconscious paladin in loops as shrapnel tore through space around him, one shard lodging in the engine of the pack. Lance hung, alone, in the vacuum of space.

“Pidge!” Screamed Matt, diving to catch his sister as she slumped forward in her seat, lightning still crackling up her arm from where she had been blown back from her bayard just ticks ago. “ _Pidge!_ ”

The Green Lion growled at the ships zipping toward her, and Pidge gave a faint groan in Matt’s arms as tears sprang like liquid amber to his eyes. “Don’t you go anywhere on me, Pidge!” He insisted, tugging his sister into his arms and pressing her nose into his shoulder. “I finally found you; I’m not letting you go again!”

The fighter ships swooped towards the Green Lion, the Black Lion still hovering limply behind the smaller frame, and Matt’s head snapped towards the guns a tick too late.

A smaller ship blasted through the fighters congregating around the Green Lion, its blasters blazing like spurts of magma against the darkness of space, and Matt’s heart leapt up into his throat at the insignia as the craft swept past, shooting towards the smoking remains of Zarkon’s latest weapon.

Pidge whined, pawing at his arm.

“Matttttttttttttt, can’t breathe!”

“Good!” Shot back Matt, wrapping the squirming mass that was his sister into a tighter hug as tears streaked down his cheeks. “That’s what you get for scaring the living daylights out of me!”

“Let’s start with the fact that daylight isn’t living and go from there!”

Keith blinked in the cockpit of the Black Lion, his heart clanging against his chest and the golden hippos still prancing before his eyes. He spun, violet irises blown wide as Black’s presence flooded back into his mind, Lance’s feeble one poking at the edge of his periphery, and tears sprang to his eyes at the familiar hum.

“Leave it to you, Lance,” choked out Keith. “Leave it to you to make me hate silences too.”

Lance shifted, a moan slipping from his lips, and fingers carded through his hair in slow, sweeping strokes.

“It’s alright, Lance,” promised a familiar voice, a hard edge to the words. “You’re safe, I promise. You did well, destroying that cannon. We just picked you up; we’re en route to the Black Lion now. Keith’s okay, so is Allura, and I’ve heard from Pidge. Everything— _everyone_ is alright. Thanks to you.”

Lance blinked against the harsh light, a smile tugging at his lips even as a sob built in his throat, and Kuron rubbed soft circles into his temple. “You were amazing out there, Sharpshooter. We need to organize a nice parade for you after this, right? I believe someone once told me that all heroes need a parade.”

Lance choked on his next breath, fingers reaching up to clasp Kuron’s wrist, and head tilting into the touch as tears cascaded down his cheeks. Kuron gulped, eyes going wide and fingers twitching, shoulders rolling back and stance shifting as if to flee. Lance giggled, tightening his hold on the man’s wrist, and tugging him closer as the smile consumed his lips, tears glowing in the light off his Altean marks.

“That was all I ever wanted to hear,” he managed. “I just…I wanted you to be proud.”

The taller man practically went limp in the cockpit, a sigh of relief flooding the ship and drawing a chuckle from Lotor.

“Geezus, Lance. I was so sure I had screwed up again,” groaned Kuron, his throat constricting like a cobra. “And…and it doesn’t matter whether I’m proud of you or not, but for what it’s worth: I think that what you have done and who you are are both things worth a little pride.”

“Just a little?” Teased Lance, the teary laugh that followed rippling with joy, and Kuron settled by his side, running his fingers gently through the hair of the boy he had just leapt from the ship to pull from the vacuum of space.

He would jump any distance, cross any mountain, brave any river to hear this boy laugh. It looked like pure sunshine had found its voice.

“Yes, just a little,” said Kuron as the ship folded into the Black Lion, Keith already skidding into the hangar with a shout and eyes sparkling with that one light only Lance could inspire. “The rest of that pride you’re due is all yours to feel.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I own nothing!
> 
> ¡Aquí no va nada!=Here goes nothing!  
> ¡Venga!=Bring it on!  
> ¡No voy a romper!=I will not break!


	17. Papi

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It had been over a year, but no one could deny the twins the right to sleep in their papi’s room. Sylvio knew their grandmother worried about the fact that they never spoke about their papi with the family, wouldn’t bring him up or tap into the old stories he told them, wouldn’t flinch when his old songs came on or when the smell of his favorite garlic knots flooded the kitchen. Nadia knew too, but she still braided her hair just like their papi had every morning, chin raised and eyes scaldingly defiant.

Sylvio jackknifed out of his bed, arms pinwheeling in a flurry of half-slashes, and Nadia guffawed as she snatched her pillow off his face and rolled away from the bed before he could retaliate.

“Sleep through your demon alarm again, and I’ll throw my hairbrush at you!” She threatened, smirking and plucking the purple comb from the scratched desk to run through the streams of curls winding down her back. “Hurry up, we need to get ready for school! You know that stupid bus won’t wait even a minute for us.”

_Not like Papi, who would lean against the green hoverbike and sing the most annoying songs he knew to make them hurry up. Not like him at all, with his wide arms and too-tight hugs and kiss attacks and quiet whispers to his “little princess” and “little prince”…_

_There was no one who could replace their Papi._

Nadia’s teeth caught her lip, eyes tracing the tense line of her brother’s lips, a look she had grown uncomfortably familiar with ever since their papi had disappeared. A look she despised above all else. “I said, hurry up! I got a new bottle of nail polish the other day, and I need you to be my test dummy!”

An excuse their papi had taught them if anyone was rude about Sylvio liking nail polish about three times more than his sister. But there was little Nadia could think of to say that she hadn’t learned from him, from the only person who had chosen them, who had decided that they were going to be as much a constant in his life as he was in theirs. For him to just go missing like that…

“Fine,” pouted Sylvio, sliding from beneath his sheets and fumbling for the red comb his grandmother had given him for his eighth birthday a week ago. “But I still get dibs on the bike tonight!”

Nadia stuck her tongue out in response and flicked her neatly braided hair over one shoulder.

“Whatever, loser,” she teased, peeling the face mask off her brother’s skin with more care than she could manage to squeeze into any number of words. “But we’re stopping at the library on the way home! I have to get that stupid book for class.”

“Ew,” grumbled Sylvio, coaxing the face mask from his sister’s cheeks with practiced ease. “The one with the whole _play-by-the-rules-to-please-your-partner_ thing?”

Nadia scrunched up her nose in response, and Sylvio gagged exaggeratedly. “Papi would burn it.”

“And then he’d march down there and ream the teacher for giving us a book like that,” added the tall girl, giggles dancing just shy of her words. “No bars held!”

Sylvio snorted, tugging the last of the cream from her face and sliding it into the nearest star-doodled wastebasket. Nadia flashed him a grateful wink, pattering over to her side of the bed and scooping pencils into her backpack while Sylvio traced the still-glowing stars on the ceiling with his eyes; constellations springing to life under his gaze as if he somehow remembered the years he had slept in this room as a baby. The room where their papi had snuggled in close, had sang lullabies until they were forced into the dream world……where he had always come home, no matter what happened during the day.

It had been over a year, but no one could deny the twins the right to sleep in their papi’s room. Sylvio knew their grandmother worried about the fact that they never spoke about their papi with the family, wouldn’t bring him up or tap into the old stories he told them, wouldn’t flinch when his old songs came on or when the smell of his favorite garlic knots flooded the kitchen. Nadia knew too, but she still braided her hair just like their papi had every morning, chin raised and eyes scaldingly defiant.

They weren’t going to start mourning. Their papi wasn’t dead yet, just missing. And if they had to search the world over, Nadia and Sylvio would bring him back home again. They weren’t going to squirm away from his memories. They wouldn’t retell his stories as if he wasn’t going to come back and boom them out with a symphony of gestures lighting up his words like fireworks popping beneath his voice. They wouldn’t stop singing the songs he had spent so many years teaching them, and they wouldn’t reminisce with that brittle sorrow coating the memories that everyone else in their family seemed to share.

He was their papi. He had never given up on them, even though he had been barely two years older than the twins were now when he had balanced them in his lap for the first time, hospital lighting flashing in the background of the picture framed on his desk. He had been Nadia and Sylvio’s entire world for seven years; their other family members were loving and sweet and indulgent and around only for the holidays. Papi had been there for Nadia’s first baby tooth falling out in her apple (she had screamed unremittingly for two whole minutes until Sylvio had patted at her cheek consolingly). He had been there when Sylvio threw a fit over getting new shoes because everyone else’s were cool and new and his were boring! Papi had vanished an hour later and returned with Sylvio’s now-brightly decorated and resewn sneakers, two empty spray paint cans, smudges streaking his face all the way up to his floppy hair, and the most triumphant smile in the world. _I have connections, my little prince,_ he had assured Sylvio. _You don’t have to be fancy to be unique. See? Making do is **so** much more creative and cool!_

Papi had been there for the best, the worst, the everyday, the little triumphs and tragedies that made the twins into who they were now. Papi stayed when no one else had.  
No way Nadia and Sylvio were giving up on him so easily. They were his little royals, after all.

“Keep staring into space and you won’t get to try any of my blueberry blush!”

“No! Nadi, let me try ittttttt!”

“ _Hurry up then, toad!_ ”

“Toad?”

“ _Toad!_ ”

“Toad?!”

“ _TOAD!_ ”

“It’s possible, pig!”

“Do _not_ quote _Princess Bride_ at me, you Rodent Of Unusual Size; _get ready!_ ”

“Pidge, status report!” Shouted Keith, whipping the joystick to the side as the steady clacking of Lance’s fingers snapped their guns onto the offensive.

Lasers shrieked across the atmosphere, grating against the Black Lion’s armor and burning through Galra fighters in sizzling whirlwinds of blue, purple, and red. Keith could feel the familiar metal of the joystick biting into his fingers, his teeth digging into one another and eyes aching. Resuming the battle after getting thrown out of the astral plane was…awkward, to say the least. That being said, Kuron and Lotor were doing an insane amount of the work in their smaller craft, barrel rolling and dive-bombing enemy fighters like they were one mind.

“Giant annoying swarm of metal gnats is annoying!” Growled Pidge, helmet tilted askew over one ear, and Matt’s jagged clacking behind her descending into a rhythm of chaos. “Nothing I can’t handle. A few more dobashes, and this’ll look like a floating pile of scrap metal! You guys just get down to Earth! We can’t have these losers unloading sentries onto our planet!”

Lance snarled beside Keith, the howl of Black’s jawblade ripping through a battleship’s stomach jerking Keith back to his own fight. Lance’s forehead was speckled with sweat, his eyes cutting through the stars with a harsher edge than any sword Voltron could muster. His nails were practically breaking through his gloves, his breaths hissing through his teeth, and his jaw locked in a way that would definitely give him a headache later.

Keith winced.

Okay, so _technically_ , Sylvio wasn’t supposed to be drawing during his science class, but if he had to write one more report on these stupid pea plants, he was going to launch the tiny insufferable greens out into space and not look back! He didn’t care if that meant he would fail the class, it would be worth it to rid his life of the daily reports forever!

Nadia kicked his foot under the desk.

“Colored pencils down,” she hissed in Spanish, never once raising her head. “Teacher’s looking.”

Sylvio drew the side of his mouth up into a hook, eyebrows clenching together and a pout winding across his face. He jammed the teal pencil into his desk and flipped the standard one into his grasp. He would just wait until the teacher wasn’t looking again.

Keith knew he couldn’t keep Lance away from his kids any longer; it was like the distance was physically ripping his partner apart from the inside out. Pidge didn’t even need to see her space brother to know that.

“ _Lance, shhhhh,_ ” murmured Keith, slipping into the astral plane to cup Lance’s cheeks, drawing their foreheads together in a brush far too gentle for any battlefield; exactly what Lance needed right then. “ _You know we’ve got this. You’re obsessing; stop it._ ”

Lance’s eyebrows clenched together, a thundercloud seeping across his face.

“Sylvio!” Chirped Leo, arms winding around the shorter boy’s neck and yanking him into a hug. “¡Hola!”

Sylvio giggled, hands pressing over Leo’s hands as he snuggled into the embrace. Leo had been trying to learn Spanish ever since he first went over to Sylvio’s house a few years ago and was greeted by Papi’s ecstatic flurry of words. He had only been able to stare uncomprehendingly at the teenager before being yanked into a hug with a blushing Sylvio and snickering Nadia. To this day, he had no clue what had happened, and Sylvio refused to translate it.

“Hola, Leo,” replied Sylvio, still giggling, “¿Cómo estás?”

“Bien, ¿y tu?”

“Bien,” promised Sylvio, squeezing Leo’s arms tighter and letting the warmth seep into his back.

Leo was one of the only people who had stayed friends with him and Nadia after Papi’s disappearance.

Lance let out a snorting laugh, his eyes crinkling and lips parting just an inch away from Keith’s, giggles slipping past in a torrent.

“ _Did you just quote Project Runway at me? Who even are you?_ ” He teased, a tremor rocking his words and splintering up into his eyes. “ _Let’s…look, can we just do this fast? Please?_ ”

Keith blew out a concentrated breath, lips pursed to only allow a thin stream out through the center, and Lance’s shoulders unwound slowly at the familiar gesture. If he could keep that face in his life, couldn’t he keep the little royals he had raised?

“Sure, Lance,” whispered Keith, pressing a kiss to the wrinkles gouging themselves into his forehead, the warmth of his lips pressing the skin into smoothness. “Let’s hit the ground running.”

When Papi vanished, the twins had fallen through the cracks of their constantly busy family. It was why Papi had raised them in the first place; no one else had the time. They had learned to wake up early and run to the bus stop, a piece of fruit shoved in each of their pockets, the ride filled with shrieking instead of laughing, with smirks instead of fond smiles, with grabbing hands that were malicious instead of playful. Abuela still made them lunches and dinners, but her flurry of rushed kisses and too loose, too quick hugs left both children aching for Papi’s long squeezes and kissy attacks mixed with the occasional raspberry. It was like someone had tried to stick a band-aid over a crevice shuddering apart their world. Papi had been their world.

So when their world vanished, the twins fell. They grabbed for any bit of solid ground to cling to, any piece of stability the universe could muster, anything and everything within their reach.

It all slipped through their fingers.

“Hey, you remember that old swing my mom built? The one on that biiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiig branch?” Exclaimed Leo, throwing his arms out and puffing out his chest, stumbling a little at the swelling posture. “Well, my aunt came over last weekend and upgraded it! She won’t tell me how, just gives me that little pat pat on the head and a wink, but Mom finally agreed to let me try it! You want to come over after school and join me? Nadia too?”

Sylvio grinned. It all slipped through their fingers…all except for a few.

“You bet!” He chirped, tugging his paper lunch bag free of his backpack and checking the writing to be sure he hadn’t taken Nadia’s again; she got really mad when he ate her pudding that one time after she had been saving it.

Also, what was up with that weird humming noise? Was someone blaring music through their headphones again? “Oh yeah! Leo, back me up here! Nadia and I made this new shovel thing the other day, and I said we should look for pirate’s treasure, but Nadi—”

“ _GET DOWN!_ ”

Okay, so _maybe_ Lance took Keith’s advice a _smidge_ more literally than it was intended, but it was totally justified! Plus, he hadn’t had much choice; he didn’t tell Black to spit him out before they had even touched the quiznaking ground!

“Lance, what are you doing?!” Yelled Keith, ripping their Lion around to intercept the screaming vortex of lasers blasting towards their exposed Black Paladin. “Do you even have your bayard with you?!”

“Oh yeah, this was totally my plan!” Shot back Lance, arms slapping against the ground as he rolled out, eyes whipping across the terrain. “You know, just going to hang out here in the middle of a flat battleground during a firefight! My favorite!”

“ _ **Black!**_ ” Snarled Keith, as if the Lion could hear either paladin in their currently snoozed-out condition. “Oh, don’t think you’re getting a nap right now just because you deserve one!”

“Uh, bud?” Called Lance, a lined blaster flashing into his hand as the familiar creak of footsteps tingled through the ground. “Maybe you could work on getting out of Black instead right about now, huh?”

“Quiznak!” Snapped Keith, and Lance settled the blaster against his shoulder, cocking his head with a grimacing smirk.

“Soooooo, am I getting reinforcements, or is it the intrepid Lanceylance to the rescue?” He teased, the familiar heat of their sun rippling over his armor and the scent of their air sharper than he had remembered.

Lance never realized just how tangy Earth smelled. He hadn’t realized that the ground beneath his feet was so rough, so unfamiliar in comparison to their smooth tile training deck, like a doll whose stitches time had torn out even as the face remained unchanged in his memory’s eye. Like staring up into the blue sky and realizing it wasn’t as deep and high as he remembered; not in comparison to the Haluni. Like coming home only to realize that he had been home all along.

Lance slid his feet a little wider. He drew in a deep breath, the air shaking at his shoulders and vibrating into his bloodstream like nectar to a parched throat. He closed his eyes and, just for a tick, held his breath.

Lance was on Earth again. He had come back. He was _home._

Blue eyes snapped open, boots shooting off the ground, and Lance’s gun lit up like an erupting volcano as his lips fit back into their familiar grin.

“Come at me, you buckets of bolts!” He roared, blaster whipping back into a sword like a streak of lightning across the battlefield, and Lance catapulted himself into the fray, his flashing eyes sharper than any blade. “Let’s dance!”

Sylvio had all of two seconds to process Nadia’s words before the faint humming sound unfurled into a grinding shriek, Leo’s hands snapping up to clamp over his twitching ears, and the hairs on the back of Sylvio’s neck went into a full pike position.

“DUCK!” He screeched, dragging Leo to the ground just as a blue missile seared through the building, its burning tendrils reaching down to furl over Sylvio’s hands and skitter along his darkened skin.

And, just for a second, the missile seemed to hover overhead. Sylvio couldn’t breathe.

“Syl!” Nadia’s scream was torn to shreds by the heaving groan of concrete, the cacophony of shattering glass ricocheting off the ground, the hiss and howl of the building as the laser blazed through the ground just beyond the school in a boiling geyser of dust. “Hermano?!”

Sylvio pressed himself tighter against Leo, flattening them both into the ground as the taller boy began to vibrate under his grasp.

“S-Sylvio? Wha—what?”

Sylvio didn’t know. He didn’t know, he didn’t know, _he didn’t know hedidn’tknowhedidn’tknow, **he didn’t know!**_ All he knew were the phantom flames still singing his neck, crawling over his back, hissing against his ear. All he knew was that the blue was seared into his eyes, he’d never forget that shade, if he hadn’t hit the ground then, _if he hadn’t gotten Leo down in time—!_

“Sylvio?” Whispered Leo, his words scraping against the dust in the air like blades were being forced down his throat. “Hey, Sylvio? You—you still with me, pal?”

_Dios mios, if he hadn’t gotten Leo down in time, if Nadia hadn’t screamed, if either of them had been even a second later, then all three of them—_

“S-Syl—”

“SYLVIO!” Screamed Nadia, her voice punching at the air and feet kicking off the ground like a pouncing lion. “WHERE ARE YOU?!”

“We’re over here! Nadia, we’re here!” Shouted Leo, worming his arms against Sylvio’s shoulders and pushing the shorter boy up to lock gazes with the swirling vortexes of blue he knew so well even in the dust and darkness pressing down on them both. “I’ve got Sylvio with me!”

Lance whooped the moment Keith’s back slid against his, the familiar pulse and pop of of his footsteps rippling through the ground up into Lance’s spine, and the faint hiss of the air off Keith’s strikes as familiar as the snap of his own blaster.

“Nice of you to show up, buddy,” he teased, the sun sparkling off his eyes and grin blazing more than the storm of lasers streaking through the air. “Thought you’d gotten lost on the way over.”

Keith snorted, a smile creeping up the corner of his lips at the glow humming within every one of Lance’s words, dancing behind each strike, radiating off of his caramel skin like a wave of quintessence. It beat within his bloodstream, twirling to match his strides, spreading like a map across the battlefield of where Lance had been. Because, for the first time in phoebs, Lance could gun down the wriggling fear that, back home, there were people he was letting down. That there were two children who needed him while he was light-years away.

Lance was back home again, and he would defend Earth to his dying breath.

“Sylvio!” Shrieked Nadia, skidding to her knees on the ground beside her brother and best friend. “What happened?! Leo, is he hurt?!”

“No blood!” Cried Leo, shifting as Nadia yanked her brother off of him and into her lap. “I think he’s just a little stunned!”

“A little?!” Snapped Nadia, the back of her hand smacking lightly against her brother’s dust-smeared cheeks. “¡Hermano, despiértate! ¡Tenemos que irnos! ¡Ahora!”

Sylvio’s swallow grated against his throat, slivers of those phantom flames carving his voice to shreds and ripping into his lungs until he forgot how to breathe. He had gotten there in time. But just barely. If he hadn’t trusted his instincts back there…

Sylvio couldn’t imagine a world without Leo or Nadia. He couldn’t lose anyone else.

“Sylvio!” Begged Nadia, shaking his thin shoulders as her words splintered like shattered glass against the shock wave rocking the ground beneath them and whipping sand against their cheeks like bullets. “¡Por favor, tienes que escucharme! ¡Esto no es seguro! ¡Tenemos que irnos!”

“Oh, I think the quiznak not!” Growled Lance, jamming his sword through a sentry’s chest as it neared his kids’ elementary school. “This war stays outside here, you got it?”

He really hoped it was the weekend or something; he wanted his little prince and princess far from this firefight. But, even if it wasn’t, there was no way these creeps were setting one metal foot into that school. Lance would make quiznaking sure of that.

Leo gripped Sylvio’s hand, his fingers tightening against the shivers rocking his friend’s body, and Nadia’s eyes crinkled against the sheen taking over her blue irises. Just like a true ocean, overflowing with water and a power she didn’t know how to direct.

Leo gulped.

“Come on, Sylvio,” he whispered, flinching away from the screech of another explosion off to their right. “We can’t leave without you.”

Nadia’s teeth gritted into one another, a choked, hitching breath fracturing in her throat, and she pulled her brother as close as she could.

“No puedo perderte a ti también,” she pleaded, tears cracking her words as she braced Sylvio’s head against her own. “No te atrevas a dejarme.”

Lance spun through the air, flipping off the side of the school and nailing three sentries in the head without even glancing over. He could feel the thrum of the air settling over his skin, the gravity clinging to his limbs like a familiar hug, and the tension fled from his shoulders.

“Let’s wrap this up!” He shouted to Keith, blasting a sentry his boyfriend was about to stab and winking at the affronted scowl he received in return. “I’ve got a couple of kids I still need to cuddle to death, you know!”

Keith grinned, flicking his Altean particle shield to full length and tilting his head as a lightning bolt glittered through his eyes.

“Come on over here, then, Sharpshooter. Let’s end this.”

“Estoy aquí,” gulped Sylvio, sucking in a shuddering breath and tightening his grip on Leo’s hand. “Lo siento.”

Leo let out a gasping breath he didn’t realize was lodged in his lungs, pressing Sylvio’s hand to his forehead as Nadia gave a sputtering cry of relief. He gulped desperately back at the tears burning the edges of his eyes even as two fell, and Nadia punched Sylvio’s arm even as she pressed a kiss against her brother’s small forehead.

An explosion rocked the windows off to their left. Leo exhaled again.

“Come on,” he managed, squeezing the still-shaking hand like all three of their lives depended on it. “Let’s get moving.”

Lance’s grin split his face and his eyes whipped across the battlefield, locking every enemy sentry’s position into his mental map even before he took a single step. He dashed across the rocky ground, popping off a droid’s shoulders and rolling out without breaking his momentum. Keith slashed a nearby sentry, planting his foot into the ground, and bracing his shield against his arm without checking Lance’s position. Keith knew his partner too well for something like that.

Lance’s armored boot popped against the shield, and Keith shoved him up into the air, holding the blue dome over his head as a smile curved into his eyes. Lance hovered in the air for a second, blue irises hidden behind his lids as his mental map readjusted to the new angle, brown curls catching the sunlight like a halo and glimmering off his Altean marks in a stream of sparkles. Lance brought up his gun, settling it against his shoulder like second nature, and his eyes tightened. Like he already knew which shot to take without looking. Keith smirked.

“Knock ‘em out, Sharpshooter.”

Sylvio popped his head over the side of the window, wide blue eyes scanning the terrain as his curls flopped against his nose. Were they really trying to make him sneeze right now?!

“What’s it look like?” Whispered Leo, his glasses cracked from the shock waves and voice nearly drowned out by the screaming and wailing of the other children, the soothing murmurs of the teachers, and even the faint creak of the columns overhead. “Is it super bad?”

“Uhhhhhh, nah?” Offered Sylvio, squinting at the heap of black and purple shattered metal on the ground a few feet away; the metal plates torn apart and droids flung between the spires of glass making up the screens. “Not really?”

Nadia rolled her eyes, her tiny nose peeking over the window too as she squinted at the playground.

“What’s with that ring of robot thingies over there?” She grumped, folding her arms and jutting out her lower lip. “If they break our swingset, I’m not going to be happy!”

The trails of her tears still shimmered against her cheeks, clear lines against the dust coating all of them like a second skin. Sylvio’s heart twisted.

“Me neither,” he grumbled, squeezing her hand.

Blue shards of the ocean snapped open, deeper than the sky overhead, and Lance blew out a short, sharp breath. Then he fired straight down towards Keith.

Leo cocked his head at the sudden blue through the dust outside.

“Uhhhh, are you guys seeing tha—”

The laser splintered against Keith’s particle shield, blowing apart into a circle of shrieking death, and the Black Paladins smirked. The blast rippled out, shattered pieces of the shot cracking through sentries and sending Keith stumbling even as his grin glowed in the blue light of the “laserites” as Lance called them. They tore into the remaining army, blowing limbs from the droids and knocking a few heads off while one or two went straight through their armored chests in a clean hole.

Lance hit the ground, rolling out just as the last sentry dropped to the ground. Keith grinned, shaking his head as he offered Lance a hand up.

“Guess they thought that splitting up the vanguard would split up Voltron, so we wouldn’t be able to handle them,” he suggested, rolling his eyes and popping Lance to his feet. “Amatuers.”

“They’ll never learn,” joked Lance, yanking Keith into a hug and nuzzling his chin against the arching, sharp shoulder. “Not now, that’s for sure.”

Keith wound his arms around Lance, squeezing him close and letting his eyes fall closed as the sun carded gentle fingers through his head.

“Yeah. Definitely.”

Sylvio blinked rapidly, hissing as his eyes tried to knock the dust free of them. Whatever just happened had blown all the sand free of the battlefield _and straight into his eyes, dios mios_! Nadia was wincing beside him and muttering threats that definitely didn’t involve decapitation or burying alive, and Leo just patted their heads with a silent shake of his own.

Sylvio poked his head over the window again.

“Hunk! Shiro! Status report?” Barked Keith, retracting his shield even as his sword remained heavy in his palm, eyes flickering over the battlefield for any stragglers.

“Allura, Pidge, how are you guys doing over there?” Called Lance, tapping at the scanner on his wrist and eyeing the dots displaying enemies spread over Earth. “You need any backup?”

“I’m almost done,” replied Hunk, the roar of his machine blaster just barely failing to drown out his words. “Just got a few stubborn ones!”

“I am clear over here,” stated Allura. “I can offer assistance if anyone needs it.”

“We’re good,” grumbled Shiro, the telltale melody of bickering trickling through his comms. “Though Adam and Krolia may need backup soon if they can’t _chill out and get along_!”

Lance giggled, and Pidge’s familiar cackle rang like music in his ears.

“RIP Shiro, Adam, and Krolia,” she teased. “I’ve been done for a while; these suckers barely knew how to fly! Are you and Keith done making out and disgusting the enemies to death?”

Keith choked, and Lance made the loudest sucking sound he could manage on short notice right into the comm.

“ _Lance!_ ” Complained Shiro, and the Black Paladin shrugged even as a giggle slipped from his lips.

“Hey, she started i—”

“Papi?”

Lance froze. Pressure surged up into his throat, all words incinerating under the fire burning behind his eyes, and his heart dissolved into a cloud within his chest. Memories spun through his mind in a reel of heartbreaking joy; Nadia’s weight on his back whenever she climbed aboard the Papichoo express, Sylvio’s insistent tug on his hand with chubby and crayon-smeared fingers, their round, laughing faces lighting up with smiles that put every star he had seen to shame. Nadia’s tendency to wriggle into his jean jackets, the hem coming down to her knees and sleeves flopping twice as long as her arms as she squealed about jacket paws and attacked her brother oh so viciously. Sylvio stealing whatever hat Lance had last worn and climbing into a tree to perch on a branch and watch for his papi to come home if he had to stay at the Garrison late. The way warmth had soaked his arms as the twin bundles of tiny tomato humans were placed into his arms for the first time. The twins’ first choir concert, their chirpy singing twice as loud as their classmates as they competed to see who could best be heard by Papi. But they didn’t know that it wouldn’t have mattered if they were loud or not; they didn’t realize that their Papi was always listening only for their little voices. Whether it was crying in the middle of the night because _babies_ or shrieking for him to come see their drawing of that lantern design from his last book or their joyous calls every evening of _welcome home! Welcome back, Papi!_

Lance turned slowly, his heart beating against his chest as tears throttled his voice and lit up his ocean eyes as if the night had finally lifted. The sunrise was coming.

Sylvio stood, his matching eyes brimming with tears, Nadia rolling out of the window a second behind him.

Lance let out a breathless, hitching laugh, tears sparkling along its edges.

Sylvio whimpered, reaching out like he was just learning to walk for the first time again, Nadia beside him and his papi so close _but so far away—_

“Hola,” choked out Lance, his voice cracking as it stretched across the battlefield; he crouched, spreading his arms wide as his eyes sparkled like lost stars finally returned to their home. “Mi principito. Mi princesita.”

“ _Papi!_ ” Shrieked Nadia, tearing across the field, Sylvio’s cry barely a second behind hers as he dashed towards their father.

He was home.

_Papi was home._

Lance was finally home.

_Finally home._

Nadia crashed into Papi’s arms, her little hands grabbing at his curly hair as her laughter shimmered diamonds brighter than the tears slipping down her cheeks. She knew he would come home, _she knew it, she knew it, she knew it!_ She had so much saved, an entire drawer of cards and presents and drawings and report cards and memories all saved up. But now that Papi was really _back, was with them and holding her again,_ all she could think of was how many memories they still had to make.

Sylvio flung himself into the embrace, his arms winding around Papi’s neck as he buried his head against the armored chest, his ear right above the pulsing _bmp bmp bmp_ of his favorite heartbeat vibrating through their hug. He choked on a sob, Papi’s palm pressing into his back and steadying him into the embrace. Papi looked so different now; he was taller, his hair a mass of curls bouncing atop his head, and blue smiley face tattoos glowing under each eye. He was muscular too, his hands wider than Sylvio remembered, and his voice a touch lower.

But when Papi pressed a wave of kisses and raspberries over their faces without pulling back from their tight hug, tears glowing in his eyes like an overflowing ocean of love, and when he whispered conspiratorially to them just like he used to when picking out a bedtime story, Sylvio felt the rock that his stomach had been clenched into for a year finally unwind. Nadia shoved the tears from her cheeks, grinning up at Papi and clinging to him like a koala, and the worry lines that had seemed carved into her forehead melted away. Sylvio snuggled against his papi’s heartbeat, and let out a long, slow breath. Because, different or not, they finally had _their_ papi back. They were finally someone’s little royals again.

“I’m so proud of you two,” whispered Lance, standing with Sylvio cuddled to his chest and Nadia locked onto his back; he giggled as Keith wiped tears from Lance’s cheek, twining his fingers with his partner’s and beaming like all his wishes had come true in a single quintant. “Come on, my little royals; let’s go home. Let’s all go home.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I own nothing!
> 
> ¿Cómo estás?=How are you?  
> ¿Bien, y tu?=Good, and you?  
> ¡Hermano, despiértate! ¡Tenemos que irnos! ¡Ahora!=Brother, wake up! We gotta go! Now!  
> ¡Por favor, tienes que escucharme! ¡Esto no es seguro! ¡Tenemos que irnos!=Please, you have to listen to me! This isn't safe! We need to leave!  
> No puedo perderte a ti también=I can't lose you too  
> No te atrevas a dejarme=Don't you dare leave me  
> Estoy aquí=I'm here  
> Mi principito. Mi princesita.=My little prince. My little princess.


	18. Welcome Home, Paladins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> None of them had expected to be greeted by their families.

“Mom!” Screamed Pidge, careening down Green’s ramp with Matt just a tick ahead of her, twin sets of amber eyes transformed into liquid gold. “Mom!”

“There you are!” Cried Mrs. Holt, dashing from the Garrison gates just in time to catch Pidge’s leap into her arms, hand locking around the thin back as Pidge buried her nose into the broad shoulder, her senses flooded by the soft, floral scent of her mother’s laundry detergent. “I knew I would find you again, Kit-Kat!”

Matt crashed into the two, trapping them in a hug as tears flooded free from his eyes, the press of his mother’s pearls finally more than an aching memory against his arms. “And you!” Breathed Mrs. Holt, wrapping an arm around her son and threading her fingers through his thick, brown hair. “The universe had better be very glad it finally gave you back to me, or I would have torn this whole thing apart thread-by-thread until my little Mattematician was home again.”

A sob tore through Matt’s throat at the old nickname. His mother had invented it after one particular bully had jabbed his studies by asking how his family could ever be proud of having such a scrawny bookworm for a son. Mrs. Holt had cradled the writhing nine-year-old to her chest and pointed out bluntly that she was proud her son had grown into a decent human being instead of someone who threw barbs at serious and hardworking people. _And we’ve always been proud of you, Matt, just for you are. You’re our little Mattematician, after all._ It had dragged as many tears from him back then as it did now.

Pidge clung to the shoulders matching her own, laughs falling from her lips as tears swept rivers down her cheeks, all the words she had waited so long to say, like _I’m so sorry for disappearing_ and _I missed you more than you could imagine_ and _I have so many stories to tell you_ all crushed down into bubbling giggles under her mother’s embrace. She finally had her family back, her dog bounding in circles around the three of them and licking at their fingers, as if he knew he had to bind the Holt family together again forever. All her fears of being too much, of having to force this new version of herself back into her role of youngest daughter, all of it…just dissolved under her mother’s smile, glowing with pride.

The paladins had agreed to gather in front of the Garrison after pounding the vanguard into the ground because _I want to shove the Lions in those alien-deniers’ faces!_ according to Shiro and Keith, and _I mean, I want to shove all of you in that douchebag Iverson’s face, but go off_ according to Adam. Lance had covered Sylvio and Nadia’s ears with a full-body gasp and an exclamation about language while Pidge sniggered.

None of them had expected to be greeted by their families.

“Hey there!” Crowed Hunk, just barely getting his feet on solid ground before his younger brothers tackled him, his tina and mom wasting no time in throwing themselves into the dogpile.

Their fingers were a little more calloused, a little more worn as they stroked Hunk’s cheek, winding through his hair, his brother tugging insistently on the orange headband he had made for Hunk when he joined the Garrison, and tiny fingers curling around his palm.

“Stay!” Pouted the youngest, making his eyes wide as the moon and jutting out a fragile, trembling lip. “Tina and Mama were crying, so you have to stay!”

Hunk’s swallow shuddered through his chest as he tucked his brothers closer into the hug, managing to stretch his arms around his moms for the first time in a decaphoeb. He swallowed again as if he could gulp away the tears rolling in waves down his face, a choking laugh breaking free of his smile.

“Sound logic there, buddy.”

His tina pressed a long, smacking kiss to his nose in response, and his mom rubbed his scalp with a quiet laugh.

“We’re just glad you’re safe, Hunk. And you’re home now; that’s all that matters.”

“Taka, normally I would say, _see, Adam was right, listen to your fiance_ , but I can’t because _he_ ran off into space too!” Scolded Mrs. Shirogane, her Japanese careening at the three men in front of her like a frying pan as she fussed with their hair, straightening skewed glasses and patting dusted cheeks. “And Keith, I know you’re reckless dear, but if you’re going to chase down my son, at least call once in a while! I didn’t realize you were expelled from the Garrison until Adam told me! You could have come home to my house any time, and we would have made it work! In fact, you are all coming home tonight as soon as all your politicking is done so I can finish this with you over dinner! You’re all even thinner than when you left, and there’s nothing healthy about that; what were you being fed up there? Have your favorite foods changed? I should have enough ingredients, and you will eat every last bite of it!”

Shiro’s lips were twitching before she was halfway out of breath, and she swatted his arm lightly. “Yes, I know your test results were a system error,” she added, running her fingers through his tuft of hair for the third time, “but that doesn’t mean you don’t need sleep and food, young man! Think of the example you’ll be setting when you and Adam adopt another son!”

“Mom!” Cried Shiro, cheeks flushing a darker red than Allura’s armor, and his mother giggled.

“Let a mother dream,” she teased, brushing the last of the dust off Adam’s jacket and tugging lightly at his hair. “I’ve missed you all; it was like a gaping hole every day. The only thing that helped,” she added, adjusting Keith’s glasses so they were balanced carefully on his nose, the black frames thick around the edge of his vision, “was that I knew you would come home. I’ve kept your rooms just as they were. I did wash the sheets, though. And I dusted from time to time. But they are exactly as I was; just waiting for the children to come home.”

Shiro’s breath hitched, his chest jerking at the spurt of air, and the sunlight pooled into his eyes like ponds of heartache and joy just ticks from boiling over. His mom smiled, gathering the tall, scarred paladin in her arms and pressing a kiss to his forehead. “Welcome home, Taka.”

Shiro buried his head in her shoulder, tears soaking into the soft green fabric as the words he had dreamed of for phoebs in prison—this one greeting—washed over him, trailing the scent of the lavender that always bedecked their vase at home and mixing with the cooking oil permanently rubbed into his mother’s palms. The bracelet he had made for her in first grade clinked around her wrist.

“I’m home,” breathed Shiro, the Japanese sweet on his tongue as he tightened his arms around his mother and sank into her love. “I’m home.”

Adam draped an arm over Keith, drawing him close as Shiro’s shoulders gave a harsh shudder, a lullaby slipping from his mother’s lips.

“She missed you both.”

Keith’s content sigh became a quiet, hitching laugh as Mrs. Shirogane slid one hand toward the two men, beckoning them into the hug.

“We missed you too,” whispered Keith to her, sliding into the hug and pulling Adam along with him. “We missed you a lot.”

She ran her fingers through his long hair, her giggles stained with tears as she tightened her hold around the three. They were back. They were finally home, and nothing in any universe, reality, or _cosmic-god-nonsense_ could ever make her let go of them again. Never again.

Mrs. Shirogane exhaled slowly.

“And what do we say when we come back?” She teased, kissing Keith’s forehead softly and squeezing Adam’s hand.

She had never gotten Keith to actually respond to her welcoming call with _I’m home_. He would bow his head and thank her for having him over, his words stilting as if he still weren’t fluent in Japanese, but he would never claim his place in the family. No matter how many weekends he spent with her, no matter how many Mother’s Day cards he helped Shiro make for her, no matter how many times she greeted him with _welcome home_ , that was one barrier that Keith refused to cross. But that didn’t make her house any less his home.

Keith’s kiss fluttered against her forehead, a smile curving like sunshine across his lips and glowing up into his eyes.

“Sorry, Mrs. Shirogane,” he replied softly, leaning into the hug and letting each muscle relax into her arms. “I’m home.”

Well, if Allura was going to die, she supposed being crushed to death by Lance’s mother was hardly a bad way to go. Which was good, because she didn’t think she was getting much of a choice in the matter.

“Thank you for taking care of my son!” Cried Mrs. McClain, peppering Allura’s cheeks with kisses and rubbing her thumb over the pink Altean marks glowing beneath her eyes. “Thank you for bringing him home to me!”

Veronica raised her eyebrow, gaze lingering on the twin blue tattoos spreading with Lance’s beaming grin, lips quirking up into something sarcastically close to a smile.

“And what does this rapscallion mean by ‘cosmic sister’ exactly?” She teased, the Spanish wrapping around the family like a shawl as she ruffled Lance’s curls, much to his protesting shriek. “What’d you do to this poor space princess?”

“Hey, the universe declared us siblings, not just me!” Replied Lance, laughter glowing in each word as he leaned into Marco’s one-armed hug. “We passed this whole lightning test and everything; I’ll show you our matching tattoos later!”

Allura giggled, wrapping her arms around Lance’s mother and holding her close as she let out a long, slow breath. It was familiar, this unconditional warmth, the softness of the embrace even as it crushed her, the curls nudging at her neck and the hands pressed flat against her back as if steadying her against the weight of the universe threatening to crush her shoulders. It was like being wrapped in the light of that yellow orb hovering overhead in the sky, like submerging in a warm bath after an expedition in the snow and ice, like coming _home_.

_It was like Lance._

“You should be very proud of Lan,” managed Allura, biting her lip as tears burned against her irises. “We couldn’t have done any of this without him. None of us would still be here today if he hadn’t come into our lives, so thank _you_ , Mrs. McClain. I can’t imagine my life without him.”

Mrs. McClain pulled back gently, swiping the tears from Allura’s eyes even as rivers cascaded down her own cheeks, a laugh breaking free of her cracked lips.

“ _Mom_ ,” she scolded, pressing a final kiss to Allura’s forehead and brushing a lock of snowy hair free of the princess’ glowing gaze. “You’re my little knight’s sister, aren’t you? You’re my daughter too, then. You have a family—a mother—here.”

Allura’s face crumpled. Tears flooded over her quaking Altean marks to drop from her chin as sobs tore at her shoulders, heaving breaths exploding in her lungs as she fell into Mrs. McClain’s embrace. Hiccups broke free of her throat, spasming through her arms as she wrapped them around the smaller woman and clung on for all that she was worth. This wasn’t Altea, wasn’t her shimmering mother with draping sleeves and a crown of gold, wasn’t her family who spent vargas making funny faces at one another when a painter tried to capture their royal profile, none of this was hers. They shouldn’t be her family; this shouldn’t be her home, not after everything she had already been given. How could someone possibly have three families? Have three homes?

“Shhhhhhhh,” soothed Mrs. McClain, rubbing circles into Allura’s back and resting her forehead on the trembling shoulder. “It’s alright now. Everything’s okay. You’re home, mija. We’ll take care of you.”

Lance’s smile swam with tears, the steady weight of Sylvio latched around his chest and Nadia dangled from his back a soothing constant to the heaving waves crashing against his heart. He still couldn’t believe it, couldn’t wrap his head around the fact that he _really was home again_ with both of his families laughing and crying and dancing around him. It was like a dream, a fantasy that would vanish into screaming red alarm lights if he so much as blinked wrong.

“Hey, hey, Papi?” Called Nadia, swinging a little behind him as she peered up at the curls wrapped like a crown around Lance’s head. “Can we read _The Princess Knight_ tonight?”

Lance gulped, his throat clamping closed as he buried his nose in Sylvio’s hair and squeezed his eyes shut until blossoms of blue sprang to life behind his lids. Eventually. Eventually, he would get used to this again. He wouldn’t question it, wouldn’t brace for anything, wouldn’t cling so desperately to the people he had spent a decaphoeb crying for. Lance believed that without a doubt because _he had time now_.

“Sure thing, little princess,” he whispered, twisting to plant a kiss on her forehead. “Sure thing.”

“Not so fast, McClain!” Snapped Iverson, stalking from the Garrison’s gates with fists clenched and a thunderstorm etched into his brow. “You all have a lot of explaining to do, and I’ll be hellbound if I don’t get that information right now! You’d better have a nice story thought up, you dropout ex-cadets!”

Lance drew himself as upright as he could with two kids wrapped around him, snapping his shoulders back and raising his chin as a volcano boiled into his eyes. Nadia’s eyes grew wide and she ducked her head at Iverson’s shout, burying her nose in the hard black of her papi’s armor. Sylvio’s hold around his papi’s waist became a vice grip, tears welling from his ocean eyes and gaze flitting up to Lance’s face.

“P-Papi?” He whispered, tugging himself impossibly closer. “Why’s he shouting?”

Lance bit back a snarl, carding his fingers through Sylvio’s hair instead and bringing his free hand back to cradle Nadia’s head, careful to avoid crushing her braid.

“Shhhh,” he crooned, nestling his little royals closer and fixing the fuming Iverson with a look of steel. “It’s going to be okay. Just leave this to me.”

Yeah, like it was going to be that easy. Lance’s swallow grated against his throat, and he tightened his hold on his children again. He didn’t want to do this. Nadia and Sylvio hated yelling, hated the way it attacked and skewered logic with slurs and cruel jabs, hated the way it clogged the air with a tension of steel and fire. Their eyes went wide and chests hitched over their own breaths, their fingers curling into fists to hide the trembling and lips tightening as if to hold back whimpers. Once, when Sylvio accidentally left his lego set out for a sleep-deprived and starving Marco to trip over, the college student had roared at the child until Lance came hurtling down from his room where he had been hanging out with Hunk, leaping from the last step and shoving Marco into a wall. He had scooped up a wailing Sylvio, pressing him to his chest and murmuring a lullaby as soft as the snow trickling down outside. Lance stepped nose-to-nose with Marco and, still whispering a song woven with moonlit notes, fixed his brother with a blazing glare that would melt a Galra battleship, his message searing into the air between them. _One more word and I **will** break a vase over your head, use your ego to catapult you right through a black hole, and tell Mom._

Marco had apologized.

Lance shifted his feet forward, sucking in a jagged breath, and plastered a slanting grin across his lips. He couldn’t pull a move like that with Iverson, but he was a diplomat and Black Paladin of Voltron now. He always had a few tricks up his sleeve. He just had to grit his teeth, pull back his shoulders, and not let his families down.

“Hey, Iverson!” He called, snapping his jaw closed as Sylvio burrowed into his chest with a whimper. “Perfect timi—”

“Uh, yeah, nope. Nope, nope, nuh uh,” cut in Hunk, striding in front of Lance from where he stood cradling his children to him after a decaphoeb apart, a father finally reunited with his little princess and prince. “We’re not doing this here. We _just_ got back to Earth—to our _families_ —after _another_ crazy battle, which, really, add it to the list! Lance, do we have a list? We need a list! It’s too long for anyone to keep track of!”

Lance stood perfectly frozen, eyes blown wide and jaw slack as Hunk stared at him with folded arms and an annoyed pout curving down his lips. Hunk didn’t slow down. “And, uh, we just saved the planet and the universe _again_ , so, really, a little respect would be appreciated. Without us, you’d all be like _bhow bhow bhow…bhoo!_ ”

Lance couldn’t hide his giggle as Hunk snapped his arms down from where they were extended over his head, narrowly missing Iverson’s face in the process, and his friend shot him a grin before continuing. “And then, no more Earth! So, no. You’re _not_ going to treat us like we’re some alien monsters who just arrived waving our guns around and shooting at innocent bystanders; you’re going to treat us like the Paladins of Voltron who just saved your planet and kept your people from falling into the hands of the Galra Empire. And Lance is one of our Black Paladins, so here’s what you’re going to do. You’re going to treat my best friend with trust,” stated Hunk, ticking the list off his fingers as he spoke, “respect, and kindness. Same with Keith, Pidge, Shiro, Adam, Allura, Matt, Coran, Krolia, and me.”

Hunk stepped an inch away from Iverson, folding his arms and raising his shoulders like a wall between the Garrison and Voltron. “We clear?”

Iverson’s face was molten red, the veins in his neck bulging a violent purple, and his teeth biting into one another as he seethed, trying to choose which of the thousand roars on his tongue to scream first. Hunk didn’t even give him a second glance. Instead, he spun on his heel and faced Lance head-on.

Lance, who stood there in battered Black Paladin armor with matching bags under his eyes, with mussed curls, and with his eyes still blown wider than any of the oceans they had grown up swimming in. Lance, who stood there with his niece and nephew clinging to him, with the sunlight of the Earth finally pooling in his blue irises, with his lip curled the way it always did when he was biting back a crushing wave of emotion. Lance, the only one who had always been standing there when Hunk turned to look back.

“Hunk…”

“You don’t have to compromise on everything, Lance,” interrupted Hunk, folding his arms as his lips tilted downwards, sunlight seeping into his melted chocolate eyes. “You don’t have to always say ‘yes’ and put yourself last. I told you already, didn’t I? We’ve got your back, buddy!”

Two arms flew around his chest, and Hunk’s breath stuttered in his throat as Lance tackled him in a hug, Sylvio squished contentedly between them as Nadia whooped on his back. Lance’s face was pressed against his shoulder, nose cradled in the charred armor, and smile stretching up to press crinkles beneath his eyes. His words were soft, whisked up to Hunk by the warm summer wind they had played with whenever they snuck out to stargaze on Lance’s roof on the many nights he had brought Hunk back home with him.

“Thank you, Hunk,” whispered Lance, nuzzling his best friend as tears glimmered in his crystal eyes. “I know, and I trust you. You’re Voltron’s big man, after all. Our one consistent, steady leg. Who else would I trust?”

Hunk gulped, wrapping his arms around Lance in return, careful to spread them wide enough to account for Nadia. She snuggled into the hug, smile blissful as her eyes met Hunk’s. Lance let out a breathless laugh. “You’re _the_ constant in my life, Hunkers. Don’t sell yourself short. I mean, you’re probably taller than Iverson by now!”

Hunk snorted out a laugh, squeezing Lance to him tightly as a planet was lifted off his chest. Lance wasn’t mad at him for failing to protect him from the clone. Lance didn’t hate him, hadn’t lost his faith in them, hadn’t given up on Hunk. They were okay. Hunk still had his best friend, and Lance still had his.

“Love you, bro.”

“Love you too, bro.”

Sylvio grumbled something under his breath and Nadia snickered as her brother screwed up his face at being trapped in the middle of a rapidly tightening hug between two armored siblings. Nadia poked her head up from Lance’s back and stuck her tongue out at Iverson, giggling as she popped down again and nestled into the armor.

Iverson fumed, mouth snapping open and closed futilely, and he raised a finger as if that would draw up the words he needed to properly berate the two hugging paladins in front of him with two kids sneaking their way into the embrace. Their shadows mingled, stretching out in front of Iverson, and something drew his eyes down to them. And, just for a second, he swore they shivered out into four lions, glowing a scalding yellow, freezing blue, molten red, and a deathly black as they surged towards him with one roar.

Iverson blinked. Lance smirked, and Hunk bit his lip to keep from giggling. Their Lions growled protectively in their minds, and Iverson stepped back.

Their paladins were finally back home. They were home again, and their Lions weren’t going to let anyone spoil this for them. Even just for a varga, their humans were back in the circles of love, unconditional support, and undying devotion that they had always deserved. And this time, their Lions would protect that for them. No matter what.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I own nothing!

**Author's Note:**

> I own nothing!
> 
> My tumblr is at https://asagaosylph.tumblr.com/ :D


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